BBM Compilation
by Penguins Stealing My Sanity
Summary: A number of BBM fics I've written: a handful of oneshots and a few miniseries.
1. Everything Changes I

Song is "Everything Changes" by Staind. I've been wracking my brain (and mauling penguins), searching for an idea for a fic to use this song with. I finally found this plot-bunny cowering in its hole, dragged it out by the ears, and threw it at my computer until this fic came out.

Generic disclaimer that applies to each of the following fics.

**- Everything Changes I - **

I stood there, watching as the truck pulled out and rounded the corner; stood there long after it had disappeared through the trees. Slowly, I walked to my own truck, climbed inside, sat there gripping the sides of the steering wheel with both hands, my knuckles white; then I lashed out, slamming my fist against the center of the wheel. The horn sounded, and I hit it again, and again, and again…screaming and cursing, though the honking drowned it out. I finally stopped and dropped my head down onto the wheel, my eyes closed tightly, the echo of the last honk fading away into the lonely landscape. 

**If you just walked away  
What could I really say?  
Would it matter anyway?  
Would it change how you feel?**

"Damn you, Ennis," I whispered, furiously wiping tears from the corners of my eyes. "Damn you…"

I couldn't stand this anymore. Couldn't stand just seeing him once or twice a year, and just for a week at a time… _"I'm not you. I can't make it on a couple of high-altitude fucks once or twice a year."_ He made me so angry sometimes…and I hadn't been able to control it anymore. All my anger from the past twenty years had come spewing out, and I'd managed to choose the words that would hurt the most. For the first time in twenty years, I'd decided to be a little selfish, to take something for myself…and somehow Ennis had managed to twist everything around, so that _I _was the one to comfort _him_, to hold him while he cried…while inside I wanted nothing more than to punch him as hard as I could for what he was doing to me. I hated him as much as I loved him.

**I am the mess you chose  
The closet you cannot close  
The devil in you I suppose  
'Cause the wounds never heal**

I had to do something, and there were only two things I could think of to do. Either I had to end this thing we had…sever all ties, never see him again…or I'd have to figure out some way to keep him close, so we could work this out…so we could be together… If getting rid of Ennis was the only way to move on with my life, then I would do it. It would break my heart, and I'd hate myself for it the rest of my life…but I would do it. I couldn't keep "living" like I was. Something had to change.

I pushed myself up in my seat, and reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose, my eyes squeezed tightly shut—a habit I'd picked up from Lureen. _Something has to change…_ I needed Ennis, needed him more than I needed to breathe. Ennis was life itself. Without him, I would die—slowly, but surely. Ennis fucking Del Mar made my world stop.

As calmly as I could, I reached out and started the ignition, and drove off in the direction Ennis had gone. He'd be heading for his house, I knew, and I'd confront him there. I drove slow enough, stopped often enough, so that I was never too close behind him, so that he couldn't see and recognize my truck. It was dark when I finally pulled onto the road outside his house; I could see his truck parked there, looking more beat-up than ever in the poor lighting from the single bulb on the porch. I looked around for Ennis outside, but there was no sign of him; then a light came to life inside the house, and I saw Ennis's dim silhouette lower itself down into a chair. Taking a deep breath, I got out of the truck and marched purposefully up to the front door, knocking twice and then stepping back to wait with my hands on my hips. I'd managed to work up a good anger on the drive here, and my jaw was clenched, my breathing ragged; I could only hope my eyes were burning with fury.

**But everything changes  
If I could  
Turn back the years  
If you could  
Learn to forgive me  
Then I could learn to feel**

The door was yanked open, and Ennis stood there; I gave him the briefest moment to register surprise, and then I grabbed onto his shirt with both hands and propelled him into the room, slamming him against the first solid surface I could find—the refrigerator and, though it was not the wall I'd hoped for, it would do.

"You listen to me, Ennis Del Mar," I snarled, my face inches away from his. "I ain't gonna put up with this bullshit no more." _Shit—_that was all I'd gotten planned out. I'd have to wing it… "We've both gotten in a few shots now, an' we said some pretty awful things. You hurt me, an' I hurt you—ain't nothin' gonna change that. But there is no _fucking_ way I am goin' to let it end like that. Now you sit your ass down, and we are gonna talk." I pulled him away from the fridge and shoved him towards a chair; he was too shocked to do anything but what I'd told him to do, and sat down with his hands between his knees, like a naughty child. I grabbed a chair, dragged it over next to him, slammed it down on the floor for emphasis, and sat down, glaring at him. He blinked back at me, still in shock. Obviously, I was going to have to start. "You are a fuckin' ignorant old cowboy." Good start—now what? "An' sometimes you make me so angry I wanna kill you—bash your head in till you're dead." And now for the closure… "But I still love you, Ennis Del Mar. Love you more'n I could ever love anyone else—more'n I'd ever _want_ to love anyone else. And I ain't gonna let you get away from me no more."

**Sometimes the things I say  
In moments of disarray  
Succumbing to the games we play  
To make sure that it's real**

He stared at me, his eyes wide, mouth open a little bit; I wasn't sure if he was breathing anymore, and I leaned in closer, tilting my head a little to one side. "Ennis?" I asked softly.

A single, small tear slipped from the corner of one of his eyes, and I could see that he was about to fall. I lunged forward and caught him, landing hard on my knees but ignoring the pain as I held him tightly against me—for the second time that day—holding his head against my shoulder and rocking him back and forth a little. His hands grabbed at the back of my jacket, holding on like he thought I would disappear at any moment, and his shoulders shook violently. I ran my free hand up and down his back, murmuring comforting things against the top of his head, throwing in the occasional, "I love you, Ennis," just so I could be sure he wouldn't forget. It was so easy to say it, now that it was out…

**But everything changes  
If I could  
Turn back the years  
If you could  
Learn to forgive me  
Then I could learn to feel**

"Jack," he whispered, "Jack…I'm sorry…"

"'S'alright, bud," I said softly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "Come on now…we still got more talkin' to do." I nearly dragged him up to his feet, and deposited him on the couch, sitting down next to him but turning to capture his eyes again. "Now, Ennis…I need t' hear from _you_ how you feel 'bout me."

He blinked blearily at me. "Huh?"

"Do you love me, Ennis?"

He looked down at the floor, but nodded slowly.

"Then tell me," I urged, reaching out to take one of his hands in mine. His eyes glanced over to our clasped hands, flickered up to my face, and quickly turned back to the ground. He mumbled something that I wouldn't have been able to hear if I'd had my ear against his mouth. "Can't hear ya, Ennis."

"I…you, Jack," he muttered.

"Didn't quite catch that middle part."

He looked up at me finally, anger flickering in his eyes. "I said I love you, damnit!"

I smiled, and said softly, "I thought that's what I heard." And I reached up to wrap one of my hands around the back of his neck, and pulled his face towards mine, and kissed him gently.

**When it's just me and you  
Who knows what we could do  
If we can just make it through  
The toughest part of the day**

I pulled my mouth away slowly, leaving him with closed eyes and half-opened lips—he'd been expecting a lot more than one little kiss. When he realized there wasn't anything else coming, he opened his eyes and closed his mouth, looking at me with no little confusion. "We still got more talkin' t' do, cowboy," I said. "Told you, I ain't gonna let it end like this—ain't gonna let it end at all. We gotta work somethin' out—either you come with me, I stay here with you, or we run off to the mountains an' live under a rock."

He smiled a little, and I encouragingly rubbed the back of his neck. "I ain't gonna let you go again, Ennis. It's too damn hard livin' without you, an' I can't take it no more. I ain't gonna go nowhere unless it's with you." He started to open his mouth to protest, but I glared and cut him off. "You've had twenty years of bein' afraid of what might happen if we was livin' together—it's only fair that I get twenty to prove to you that it won't be near as bad as you make it sound. I ain't gonna take no for an answer," I added. "You can argue all you like, but it ain't gonna do you a bit a good."

And argue he did, long into the night. I just sat there and calmly refused all of his attempts at negotiation. I was going to get my way, and that was all there was to it. Finally, he slumped his shoulders, defeated, and said grudgingly, "Fine. But—" Something occurred to him. "—what about Lureen?"

I shrugged, unconcerned. "Told ya already, we could do our marriage over the phone. It's more like friendship than anythin' else. An' I ain't doin' much around her daddy's business anyway these days—he won't let me, old son of a bitch. Keeps me doin' paperwork, says I'm geetin' too old t' be as active as I used t' be, an' you know I ain't good with numbers. He'll be happy to see me gone, an' I don't think Lureen'll be all that disappointed, neither. Yeah, she'll be sad a while, but only 'cause I'm such a catch."

This brought a startled bark of laughter from Ennis, and I grinned. Then, to my surprise, he reached out and pulled me against him, and kissed me. "Yeah, Jack fuckin' Twist, you sure are a catch."

**But everything changes  
If I could  
Turn back the years  
If you could  
Learn to forgive me  
Then I could  
Learn how to feel  
Then we could  
Stay here together  
And we could  
Conquer the world  
If we could  
Say that forever  
Is more than just a word**

"It's late," he said, looking up at the clock.

"It's early," I corrected—very early in the morning.

"Well, it's still night, an' I ain't had no sleep. I'm tired. We'll finish talkin' tomorrow."

"An' don't you forget it. I ain't gonna let this drop."

He sighed tiredly, and rolled his eyes a little. "I know." He pushed himself up and walked towards the bedroom door; he stopped there, turned, raised an eyebrow at me. "You comin'?" I grinned, and followed him into the dark room.

**If you just walked away  
What could I really say?  
And would it matter anyway?  
It wouldn't change how you feel**


	2. Everything Changes II

**- Everything Changes II -**

It was the perfect night for camping: crisp, but not too cold, though Ennis worried constantly about the cloud bank he swore was going to dump a storm on us any minute. He went inside the tent early and advised me again and again that I should wisen up and join him, but I stayed outside—partly because this was just the kind of night I liked, and partly because I felt it was my duty to show Ennis a little defiance now and then. I stood in front of the fire, my hands tucked into my back pockets, watching the flames flicker; I could feel Ennis's eyes on my back, and smiled a little, the thought of him watching me as intently as he obviously was warming me more than the fire ever could.

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed simultaneously, making me nearly jump out of my boots; I spun around in the air and managed to land on my feet…in time to be driven down to my knees by the torrents of rain that broke free of the clouds. Swearing, I half ran, half crawled into the tent, almost tripping over Ennis. He moved out of my way as quickly as he could, but I saw a smug little smile on his lips. He kept his silence as I dropped onto the ground next to him and yanked my dripping hat off my head; he stared straight ahead when I shrugged out of my soaked jacket, but could keep his silence no longer as I started to unbutton my shirt.

"Warned ya it would rain."

I'd been expecting it—no way Ennis could keep his mouth closed when he'd been right. I threw myself at him, and we wrestled briefly while the storm raged outside; but as usual, the match ended with Ennis the victor, holding me securely in a headlock, and for all my struggling I could not break free.

"Come on, Twist, I ain't _that_ strong," he teased, ruffling my hair none too gently with his free hand.

"Gerroff me," I growled, shoving his hand away from my hair and trying to pry his other fingers from around my chin. His fingers finally sprang open, though I doubted it was because of anything I'd done. I scrambled away from him, plopping down onto the ground at the other side of the tent and glaring at him.

"Aw, come on, Jack, I was just playin'. Ya don't have t' get all huffy 'bout it." Still, I glared. "Damn, you're in a foul mood," he said mildly.

"You were makin' fun a me." I knew I sounded like a whiny kid, but I didn't care. "I got the right to be angry with you, anyways. It's my birthday tomorrow, an' you ain't bein' no nicer to me than you ever are. Don't seem fair."

"C'mere…" He reached out and grabbed one of my arms—the tent really wasn't that big, and only a few feet separated us—and pulled me towards him, holding me firmly against his chest. That surprised me—Ennis had never been much for cuddling, and to have him initiate it… Well, it was a pleasant surprise, and my anger at him evaporated almost instantly as I pressed my head into the crook between his neck and his shoulder, snaking my arms around his waist.

"I hate it when you're right," I mumbled by way of explanation for my anger, and he laughed softly.

"Think you'd be used to it by now," he said, only half-teasingly; I retaliated by pressing my fingers hard just below his lowest rib, making him grunt in surprise. "Come on, Jack, that ain't nice," he protested.

I felt inclined to remind him, "You ain't bein' nice t' me."

He sighed, my hair ruffling slightly with the exhalation. "An' I'm sorry 'bout that, alright?"

"You could make it up by givin' me my present."

He laughed. "Not a chance, Twist. Not till tomorrow. You're just gonna have to be patient. Come on—I'm tired. Well," he amended, eyeing what he could see of my chest with appreciation, "maybe not _too_ tired."

_

* * *

Shit, was my first thought when I woke up in the morning. __I'm old._ I sat up, Ennis's arm slipping from around my waist, and found my clothes where they were scattered around the tent. "Get up, Ennis," I called, struggling to get my pants on. "Come on, I want my present." was my first thought when I woke up in the morning. I sat up, Ennis's arm slipping from around my waist, and found my clothes where they were scattered around the tent. "Get up, Ennis," I called, struggling to get my pants on. "Come on, I want my present." 

He rolled over onto his stomach, buried his face in the pillow, and mumbled something I couldn't hear. I "accidentally" kicked him in the side while pulling one of my boots on.

"_Up_, Ennis!"

"Jack, if it wasn't your birthday I'd tell you to fuck off."

"I know, but you have to be nice to me. Now get up and get me my present. I have to piss," I added.

"I'll alert the media," he said sarcastically. I grabbed his boots on my way out, noted how wet and muddy the ground was, and hid his boots in a bush. When I'd relieved myself, I got a fire going, set water to boiling to make coffee, started a can of beans (for old time's sake), and sat down on a stump, poking the flames and waiting impatiently.

"Where's my damn boots?" Ennis called from inside the tent.

"Damned if I know," I lied, smirking.

"Jack, gimmie my boots back."

"Not till you give _me_ my present."

He pulled open the tent flap and glared at me. "I ain't gonna give you the present till I get my goddamn boots!"

I gaped at him. "You—you can't do that. It's my birthday—you gotta gimmie my present."

"Nuh-uh, naughty boys don't get presents."

"But…you said you'd be nice to me…"

"Gimmie my boots, an' I will be."

Grumbling, muttering curses, I got up and dug around in the bush for his boots; finding them, I turned and—with a considerably larger amount of accuracy then I had when shooting a gun—threw the boots at Ennis's head. He barely managed to duck in time, and I heard him swearing inside the tent as I stalked back to my seat. I had beans and coffee waiting when he came out finally, and I looked up at him expectantly; before I could even ask where my present was, he pressed a finger against my lips and said firmly, "Wait." He sat down, took his coffee and beans, and ate as slowly as he always did. I, on the other hand, nearly inhaled the beans and drank the coffee so fast I burned a trail all the way down my throat. My own breakfast finished, I sat fidgeting until Ennis finally rose, stretched his back, and said tiredly, "Come on, rodeo." I jumped up, and we saddled the horses; I plied him with questions, trying to find out where we were going, but he remained determinedly silent, answering nothing.

We rode side by side, Ennis directing me when he needed to. The trees thinned, and I looked around at the surroundings with interest, this being a place I had never seen before. Ennis urged his horse a little faster up a hill; I saw the excitement in his eyes, and felt my own excitement rising. Ennis stopped at the top of the hill and turned, fixing his eyes on my face. I rose my eyebrows questioningly as I rode up beside him, but his eyes never left my face, and I finally turned to look out over the landscape, my eyes widening slowly.

Nestled at the center of the little valley below us was a ranch house—nothing run-down like what Ennis and I were living in right now, but a place that looked like it had just been built. A good-sized barn stood to one side, and the whole of the valley was divided into six pastures. A dirt road wound its way out from the ranch house, disappearing at the other end of the valley.

"Ennis…?"

"You like it, Jack?" he asked softly. I nodded, unable to find any words. "Good, 'cause it's ours. Guy I know just had it built for his son, but it turns out the son's more of a businessman than a rancher. Got it from him for a real good price." He paused. "Happy Birthday, Jack."


	3. What He Wants: Possession

Song is "Possession" by Evans Blue.

**- What He Wants: Possession -**

I drove on down the road, humming softly. I shouldn've been near as happy as I felt—I should've been damn disappointed in me—but I couldn't keep a smile from my face. I'd done somethin' bad, and I knew well enough that it was wrong of me—but it'd seemed like the best way to get what I wanted. Jack Twist always got what he wanted.

**Listen as the wind blows  
****From across the great divide  
Voices trapped in yearning,  
****Memories trapped in time  
The night is my companion,  
****And solitude my guide  
Would I spend forever here  
****And not be satisfied?  
**

It hadn't been near as hard as I'd thought it'd be to fake my own death. Just talked to the sheriff, who owed me from way back, and he placed a call to Lureen, tellin' her he'd found me dead. She didn' even want to see my body, which was no real surprise, but it made everythin' easier. I was "cremated" (Lureen, an' Momma an' Daddy were just given fake ashes) and I got the hell outta Texas, and headed straight for Wyoming. That's where I was now, drivin' to Ennis' house and prayin' to God he was there.

I wondered what he'd do when he saw me. Far as I knew, he didn' know I was "dead," an' we weren't supposed to meet up again till November. I sure hoped he'd be happy to see me, instead of angry, 'cause I never did know how Ennis would react to anythin'. I'd lost count of how many times he'd punched me fer no good reason. It was just the way he was, an' I didn't really mind that much. Bein' punched by Ennis was better'n bein' miles away from him, far as I was concerned.

**And I would be the one  
To hold you down  
Kiss you so hard  
I'll take your breath away  
And after, I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes dear  
**

I finally pulled up in front of his house, an' jumped from my truck, lookin' around fer him. But his own truck wasn't there, an' I couldn't see any sign of him around.

I wasn't sure what to do now. A part of me wanted to hide my truck, and go wait fer him inside, to surprise him…but I decided he wouldn't like that very much. So I just leaned up against my truck, and waited. I didn't have to wait too long before his old, beat-up truck came rumblin' down the road. I could see him behind the wheel, starin' at me like he'd seen a ghost. He nearly fell outta his truck, an' I could see that he'd been cryin'. I stopped smilin' an' went towards him, tryin' to ask what was the matter, but he just stumbled away from me, his face pale as paper.

**Through this world I've stumbled  
So many times betrayed  
Trying to find an honest word  
****To find the truth enslaved  
Oh you speak to me in riddles and  
****You speak to me in rhymes  
My body aches to breathe your breath  
Your words keep me alive  
**

"Ennis? Ennis, it's me—Jack. What the hell's wrong with you?"

"You're dead," he said, clutchin' at the back of his truck. "I talked to Lureen—she said you was killed—"

"Ennis—Christ's sake, stop tryin' to run away from me!" How had he found out about me bein' dead? An' he'd already talked to Lureen… "Shit, Ennis, I didn't mean for you to find out till after I'd already gotten to talk to you… It was all faked, Ennis. I had to get away from Lureen…I couldn't keep livin' like that, couldn't keep lyin' to her and to myself…" He'd finally stopped tryin' to back away from me, but I could see him shakin', an' I wondered if it was because he was angry, of if he was still uncertain. I started to say more, but then he jumped forward and punched me hard across the face. I fell—I never could manage to stay on my feet after one of his punches.

He stood over me, hands fisted at his sides, glarin' down like the fury of God Himself was runnin' through him. "If you _ever_ do anythin' that fuckin' stupid again," he said softly but angrily, "I'll kill you myself." Then he reached down and grabbed me by jacket, draggin' me to my feet and slammin' me against his truck; he kissed me hard enough to hurt, but it didn't even occur to me to try to pull away. "Jack fuckin' Twist," he whispered, holdin' my face tightly. "How can you be so fuckin' stupid?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Guess it comes of fallin' off all them bulls. Can't tell ya how many times I fell on my head…"

**And I would be the one  
****To hold you down  
Kiss you so hard  
I'll take your breath away  
And after, I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes dear **

**Into this night I wander  
It's morning that I dread  
Another day of knowing of  
The path I fear to tread  
**

"Jack fuckin' Twist," he said softly, shakin' his head but smilin' all the same. Then his face got serious. "When Lureen told me you was dead… Damnit, Jack, why didn't you tell me you were plannin' somethin' like this? I…" He trailed off, and I leaned forward to kiss him.

"I didn't think there was any way you could find out before I could get here an' tell you what I'd done. I guess I wasn't thinkin' 'bout much else besides bein' with you… I'm sorry, Ennis."

**Oh into the sea of waking dreams  
I follow without pride  
Nothing stands between us here  
And I won't be denied  
**

**And I would be the one  
To hold you down  
Kiss you so hard  
I'll take your breath away  
And after, I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes dear**

He kissed me again, hard enough that my head slammed back against the truck. "Damnit, Ennis—ya gotta stop doin' that! Now get off me—"

Smilin', he took a few steps back. "How long you gonna stay?" he asked.

"Where else've I got to go? I was thinkin' we could start lookin' for that ranch I was always talkin' 'bout…"

He shook his head, but he was still smilin'. "You never give up, do you, Twist?"

I returned the smile. "Never." Jack Twist always got what he wanted.

**To hold you down  
Kiss you so hard  
I'll take your breath away  
And after, I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes dear**

**I'll hold you down  
****Kiss you so hard  
****I'll take your breath away  
And after, I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes…**


	4. What He Wants: Stop And Say You Love Me

Song is "Stop and Say You Love Me" by Evans Blue.

**- What He Wants: Stop And Say You Love Me-**

**Hey listen, 'cause I'll only say this once  
Do you think that you could lose yourself in me?  
I could say I want to die by your side one day  
But I could never speak the words  
Because they haven't wrote the words that mean enough to me  
So together we can burn this way  
Burn this way**

**Stop and say you love me  
Always  
I'll say the same to you **

It was always the same whenever we got together: we'd fuck as many times as we could both stand, and then spent the next day buildin' up energy enough for more fuckin'. It seemed the most natural thing; after bein' away from each other for months, we had a lot to make up for in so short a time. That was different now—I meant to make sure we had the rest of our lives together, to spend it however we wanted. But that didn't matter right now; I was too worried about getting' as much of Ennis Del Mar as I possibly could.

We lay next to each other on his small bed, not quite touchin'. We didn't say nothin' for a long time, but I finally broke the silence and said, "Well, cowboy, we got some things to talk about."

"Like what?" he mumbled suspiciously, tiltin' his head to look over at me.

**I found a loophole for us now  
It's called redemption of my history  
Do you think you could look past my fears  
Tell me now my love  
Because I will lose it in your eyes**

**I see firelight in your eyes  
I know that things will be better when you are by my side  
By my side**

I lifted myself up on one elbow, lookin' down at him. "You know I ain't gonna let this go. There's nothin' to keep us from buyin' a place of our own, and Christ knows I got money enough. I been keepin' a little for myself, and Lureen don't know nothin' 'bout it. It'll be enough to get us started…" He wasn't lookin' at me anymore; he'd turned his head away, like he was ashamed or somethin'.

"Jack, I've told you before…I've got a life here…I've got my girls, I've got a job…"

"An' all that means more to you than I do, I guess," I said angrily, swingin' my legs over the side of the bed and leavin' the room. I was fightin' back tears as I picked my clothes up off the floor and started strugglin' into them.

"Where're you goin'?" Ennis demanded, standin' in the doorway of his room.

"Like you fuckin' care." I was tryin' to button my pants with my shakin' hands when he grabbed my arm and turned me around. He looked to be as angry as I was, and so we just stood there awhile, glarin' at each other.

"So just like that, you're gonna leave? You come all this way, an' now you're just gonna leave?"

"I ain't got no reason to stay now, do I?" I pulled my arm away.

He grabbed me again, this time holdin' on to both my arms. "And where do you plan on goin'?"

"Don't much care. I was thinkin' maybe Mexico—"

I realized too late that I probably shouldn't've said that, and by that time, he'd already punched me. He hauled me up and shoved me up against the wall hard enough to rattle my teeth, and his eyes were burnin' with anger, his face not even an inch away from mine. "You fuckin' little shit," he snarled, lookin' as if he wanted to wring my neck. "If I—"

"If you what?" I shoved him away from me, surprised by my own strength. "Don't even pretend like it surprises you, Ennis. If you won't give me what I need, I sure as hell am gonna find someone who will." I was angry as he was now, and I moved forward, hands fisted at my sides. He took a step away, as surprised as I was by my anger. "I gave up fuckin' _everythin'_, Ennis. I ain't got nothin' left but you, and I ain't even hardly got that. What've you ever done for me, huh, Ennis? When have I ever asked you to do _anythin'_ for me? I give up my whole damn life and come here wantin' to make a new life with you, and you won't budge a fuckin' inch! You're fuckin' _unbelievable_, Ennis! Your life ain't worth a pile of shit, but you won't give it up for me! Give me one fuckin' reason why I shouldn't leave!"

**Stop and say you love me  
Always  
I'll say the same to you  
Stop and say you love me  
Always  
I'll say the same to you**

He didn't say anythin' for a real long while, and I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes. I didn't bother puttin' my shirt on; I just had to get away. He didn't stop me when I left his house, an' he just stood in the doorway as I got into my truck and drove away.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day getting' as drunk as I could in the first bar I could find, and then stumbled to the motel near it. I sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands, an tried to convince myself that I could handle a life without Ennis Del Mar. 

I couldn't return to my old life; even if I'd wanted to, it was too late for that now. Lureen would never take me back, an' I didn't want her to. I couldn't even go live with Momma and Daddy; Daddy would be even angrier at me than Ennis had been. I didn't have nowhere to go. I'd been countin' on a life with Ennis, but there was no chance of that anymore.

"I'll get the fuckin' ranch," I said to myself. "I'll make my own life. I don't need him, I don't need anyone. I'm Jack fuckin' Twist…"

I woke up on the floor with a headache the size of Texas. It was past noon when I left the motel, and even then the sun was far too bright, and my head was still poundin'. I climbed into my truck an' just drove, not knowin' where I was goin' and not really carin'. I just let the truck take me where it wanted to go, and ended up at the place where Ennis and I had always met up for our "fishin' trips." I sat in the truck awhile, my forehead restin' against the steerin' wheel. I got out slowly, and walked down to the river, pullin' off my hat and lookin' down into the water, rushin' away from me just like my life seemed to be doin'. I couldn't've said how long I stood there, and I couldn't've said when the tears started runnin' down my cheeks. I couldn't help but remember the last time we'd been here together…

"_Tell you what, we could of had a good life together, a fuckin' real good life, had us a place of our own. You wouldn't do it Ennis, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everything's built on that. It's all we got, boy, fuckin' all, so I hope you know that if you don't never know the rest. Count the damn few times we been together in nearly twenty years and measure the short fuckin' leash you keep me on, then ask me about Mexico and tell me you'll kill me for needin' somethin' I don't hardly never get. You have no idea how bad it gets. I'm not you. I can't make it on a couple of high-altitude fucks once or twice a year. You're too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you."_

"_Then why don't you! Why don't you let me be? It's because of you, Jack, I'm like this. I'm nothin'…I'm nowhere…"_

Nothin' had changed since then. If anythin', things had gotten worse. We were no farther along then we'd ever been, and we were never gonna get any farther. He was too damn stubborn. And so now I had nothin'.

**I'm guarded  
I'm fragile  
But if anyone could ever save me now  
You can  
And you can**

Iheard a car rumble down the road behind me, but I didn't turn until I heard it rattle to a halt.

Ennis climbed slowly out of the truck and stood there, hands shoved into his back pockets. "Knew I'd find you here," he said softly. I didn't answer, and turned back around to stare at the water. "Me an' you, we got some talkin' to do, Twist."

"I ain't got nothin' more to say to you."

"I don't want it to end like this, Jack. Christ, I don't want it to end at all!"

"Well maybe _I_ do. Maybe I'm tired of all this. Tired of waitin' for _you_ to decide what we're gonna do, and when we're gonna do it. Maybe I'm tired of wonderin' if you're ever gonna be brave enough to take a chance with me. You ever think about that, Ennis? You ever think I might not wait for you forever? 'Cause I won't. I'm done waitin'. It's now or never, boy. I ain't gonna wait no more."

I still didn't look at him, and he didn't say nothin'. I started wonderin' when he was gonna get back into his truck and just leave me be; then his arms wrapped around me from behind, and he pulled me back against him, pressin' his cheek against mine. I didn't move away, and my eyes drifted shut as I had to fight back more tears. He didn't say nothin'—he didn't have to.

**Stop and say you love me  
Always  
I'll say the same to you  
Stop and say you love me  
Always  
I'll say the same to you **

**Are you strong enough?  
Am I enough?  
Are you strong enough  
To say you love me?**

His voice was rough when he said, "I saw a piece of land, not too far from here…I was thinkin' we might be able to turn it into a nice ranch…"

"Sounds like a pretty good idea, cowboy," I said softly.


	5. What He Wants: Quote

Song is "Quote" by Evans Blue. Noticing a pattern? Just a note: this is about three years after the last chapter, and Ennis and Jack now have their ranch, and are living together happily…or so it would seem…

**- What He Wants: Quote-**

"How's it look?" I called as I came nearer to the pen where Ennis was lookin' the sheep over. I leaned against the fence as he came over to stand near me.

"Not good," he said grimly. "Lost three more just last night."

I swore. Some disease—no one around could say what it was—had been killin' off our flock all through the winter and spring. We didn't even have half the number we'd started off with in the very beginnin'. "What're we gonna do?"

He pulled his hat off and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Best thing to do now would be to sell 'em, while we still can. Won't get nearly the price we could if they were all healthy…but it'll be better'n lettin' 'em all die and not getting' nothin' for it." I nodded; Ennis knew better than I did what to do in this sort of situation. We were quiet for a while more, and then he said, "I been thinkin'…we ain't got much money left, and even with what we make off the sheep, it probably won't be enough to see us through winter. But if we sold the whole place…"

"No," I said firmly, shocked that he'd even mention it.

"We've fixed this place us real nice, and we could get a good price for it—"

"I said no, Ennis. Sell the sheep if you want, but we ain't gonna sell our home."

He was clenchin' his jaw in anger, and I could see how much he wanted to yell at me, so I turned away and walked back to the house, tryin' to cool my own anger. How could he even think of sellin' the place we'd built with our own hands?

I'd learned a little from Lureen about money and bookkeepin' and that sort of thing, and it had become my job to make sure me and Ennis didn't go broke. I didn't know if I was doin' too good a job of it, since we had almost no money left. But I sat down at the kitchen table, and began makin' out a list of everything' we didn't need.

**Quote, you are my soul, unquote  
Now does that sound familiar?  
You kiss the boy and make him feel this way **

Quote, well this is me, unquote  
And you have been so ugly you're entire life  
So I changed now

When Ennis came in, neither of us were too angry anymore, and he leaned down to kiss the top of my head before sittin' down next to me. "Wha'cha doin'?" he asked, leanin' over to try to see the paper I was writin' on.

"Makin' a list of everythin' we don't need that we might be able to sell. I was thinkin' we could live on only what we needed for a while, till we get back on our feet again—"

"And how do you think we're gonna 'get back on our feet'? Even sellin' everythin' we can, we won't have enough money to buy and keep _anythin'_ that would bring us in some money, and there's no jobs I can find 'round here. I went in to town yesterday, lookin' for a job; men I talked to, they said they weren't lookin' for 'someone like me', an' I could see in their eyes what they meant by it. We got no jobs, no way to make money, Jack. What we got now is all we're gonna have. If we just—"

"We're not sellin' this place, Ennis. It's ours."

"Think I don't know that, Jack? I don't wanna leave this place any more'n you do, but I don't see any other way we can get by."

"Damnit, Ennis!" I slammed my hands down on the table and pushed myself away, the chair topplin' over backwards as I stormed off into our bedroom. I paced around awhile through all the clutter, then turned and kicked the bed. Swearin' then—_Fuck, that hurt!_—I dropped down onto the bed and yanked off my boot to gently cradle my throbbin' toes.

"That was pretty stupid."

I glared over my shoulder at Ennis, where he stood in the doorway. "_You_ weren't near enough to kick," I muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

**Is this how you wanna go down?  
****Right before my eyes  
You're the saddest sight I know  
You're quiet, you never make a sound  
But here inside my mind you are the loudest one I know  
**

**Quote, we never talk, unquote  
And that's when I don't answer  
Don't you dare ask why  
Because you don't want to know **

"Will you just let me talk for a minute, Jack? Just let me say what I need to?" He took my not answerin' for permission, and so he rushed on in, "You know how I feel about this place, Jack—sure, I didn't want it in the first place, but I love it now. You know that. I wouldn't even be thinkin' about givin' it up 'less we were in _real_ deep trouble. An' we are, Jack. We ain't hardly got any money left, and anythin' else we can make won't last us too long. I'm just thinkin'…if we sold this place, it'd be enough to buy us each a nice little house in town, where places are cheaper—"

"Buy us _each_ a house?" I repeated, and then gave a bitter laugh. I pulled off my other boot and threw it hard as I could against the wall. "You think _that's_ gonna help us? Havin' to sneak around just to get a few moments alone… Yeah, Ennis, _that's_ gonna stop all them rumors you're so worried about."

"Fine, forget that. But what if we sold some of our land? We don't use nearly half of what we got, and people're payin' good money for land like we got—"

"We bought so much land 'cause we wanted privacy, Ennis. We sell our land, an' there'll be people packin' in on all sides. It'd get to be as bad as your other idea."

"Then what're we gonna do, Jack?" he asked, soundin' frustrated and tired of the whole argument. "We keep on like this, we won't have nothin' left come winter."

I turned around to look him full in the face. "But we'll still have each other." I pulled up the covers of the bed and slid underneath them, my back to Ennis again.

After a while, the bed creaked, and he lay down under the covers next to me, puttin' his arms around me and pullin' me against his chest. "I'm sorry," he said softly into my ear and, for now, it was enough.

* * *

We sold the sheep first chance we got, for a reasonable price, and sold everythin' else we could. We made it through spring and fall, but by then, we were arguin' so much about the money we didn't have that it seemed like we didn't do nothin' _but_ argue. We were havin' one of these arguments one afternoon when Ennis just turned away from me and stormed outta our house, kickin' the wheel of his truck before climbin' into it and startin' it up. As he backed it up and turned it out towards the road, I grabbed a handful of rocks and threw it hard as I could at the truck. The rocks clattered down harmlessly, and Ennis didn't even turn to look at me. Swearin' at him at the top of my lungs, I didn't turn back into the house till I couldn't see the truck anymore. 

**Quote, well woe is me, unquote  
How different I've become  
And no one understands, my dear, no one really cares **

When I woke up the next mornin', Ennis still hadn't come back, but I couldn't say that I was really too surprised by it. This was how we handled things. We'd fight, get angry, and one of us would run off for a day or so; then we'd come back, fuck like mad, and everythin' would be back to where it had been. We handled our problems by never really solvin' anythin'…but it worked, and it was all we knew how to do.

Winter was comin' on fast, and I went out to chop some wood, hopin' it'd be enough to distract me for a little while. It was near noon when a new-lookin' car came pulling down the drive. A man who looked like he'd just arrived from way out East climbed outta the car and looked around for awhile till he noticed me. The hat sittin' on top of his head was a poor attempt to "blend in" with the local folks, and I couldn't hold in a snort as I leaned my axe up against the choppin' block and threw the wood I'd just split into the small pile I had. Fuckin' city folk.

"Is this the residence of a Mister Ennis Del Mar?" the man asked, soundin' just as East as he looked.

"If you mean does he live here, yeah," I called over my shoulder. "But he ain't here right now."

"Yes…I know. Who are you?"

I finally turned to face him. "Jack Twist. What do you want with Ennis?"

He ignored my question. "And you would be…?"

"Co-owner of this little piece of shit place. What do you want with Ennis?"

"Do you know, does Mister Del Mar have any family in the area?"

"He's divorced. Has two kids. They don't live anywhere near. Now I ain't gonna ask you again—what do you want with Ennis?"

The man sighed, and pulled his hat off his head. "Mister Del Mar's truck was found floating in the river earlier today, with him trapped inside."

It took a little while for me to actually understand the words, and then I just stood there starin' at the him, not believin' what he'd said. There was a buzzin' in my ears, and my voice was shakin' when I asked, "What?"

"Mister Del Mar drowned, sometime late last night. His body wasn't found, but we can assume he drowned. I was told I would find someone here who would know his last wishes—I can only assume that would be you. When you have some time, we will need to speak about how his assets will be divided, and that sort of thing." He gave me the address of the place where I could find him, but I hardly heard a word he said. I managed to stay on my feet until he was drivin' away in his fancy little car, and then my knees gave out and I fell to the ground, feelin' like my heart was bein' clawed slowly outta my chest.

_

* * *

(A.N.: A few days have passed.) _

I stood in the bedroom, lookin' around slowly to make sure I hadn't left anythin'. It looked so different, so wrong, without mine and Ennis's stuff litterin' the floor. I'd gone into town a few days back, to talk to the Easterner about Ennis's stuff. The next day, I'd sold the little ranch we'd built. There was no reason to keep it; I'd only fought so hard for it because it had seemed like it was the only thing holdin' me and Ennis together. Turns out he'd been right all along: got more sellin' the place than it had cost to buy all the supplies to build it. I'd stay with Momma and Daddy for a while, till I got back on my feet again. But there was somethin' I had to do first.

**Is this how you wanna come down?  
Right before my eyes  
You are the saddest sight I know  
And you're quiet, you never make a sound  
But here inside my mind you are the loudest one I know **

**And you were right, right from the start  
It took everything you had, but you finally broke my...**

I drove as far as I could, and then rode on a borrowed horse for the rest of the way. And up on Brokeback, at the place where we'd camped so many years ago, I pulled out the urn that held the ashes of some of his stuff that I'd burned, since I didn't have the ashes of his body, and held the urn gently against my chest, lettin' the tears flow down my cheeks and just livin' in the memories of this place.

_/"I hate leavin'," I told him as we packed up after three days up on Brokeback. "I hate goin' back to real life…"_

_He wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders, pullin' me against him and kissin' the side of my face, just below my hair. "We'll come back," he promised. "We'll keep on comin' back till we can't no more. Brokeback will always be here. You'll always be here, and I'll always be here…"/_

_/"I never did like sheep."_

"_Not much about 'em to like," Ennis agreed, takin' a long drink of whiskey._

"_But still…it wouldn't be too hard to raise sheep, as long as we had everythin' we'd need. I think we'd make a fine pair of ranchers, don't you think?"_

_He looked over at me, smilin' a little and shakin' his head at me. "Maybe someday, cowboy." He was too drunk to remember that he always argued whenever I mentioned us buyin' a ranch._

"_We could spend the rest of our days together raisin' sheep. Just the two of us, on our own ranch…"/_

_/We lay together in front of the fire, me layin' between his legs with my back against his chest. There was a blanket wrapped around us, and I pulled it more snugly up under my chin, shiverin' a little in the cool air. He moved his head no nuzzle his nose just behind my ear, and said softly, "You hear that?"_

"_I don't hear nothin' but the fire," I said sleepily._

"_That's what I mean. Night like this…no sounds, with the stars out… The world's stopped, Jack, just for us. Just for right now. Ain't nothin' can happen to us right here, right now." I tilted my head back, and he kissed me gently. "Right now, it's just you an' me, boy. Nothin' else matters."/_

_/"You awake, Twist?"_

_I was already half-asleep, and so I didn't answer, comfortable enough to just lay against his chest. His arms wrapped around me a little tighter, and he pressed his head down against the top of mine. I smiled, and shifted just a little so I could listen to his heart beatin' as we lay there together._

"_I'm glad I met you, Jack," he said softly, and I was confused for a little while. He thought I was asleep, so why was he talkin' to me…? But as he kept on talkin', I realized he was sayin' things he'd never say if he knew I was awake: "I know it don't seem like it sometimes, and I know I ain't always as…as kind to you as I should be… But this time we spend together, I wouldn't trade it for anythin'. Just…just so you know…" He was silent for a while longer. "Don't know what I did to deserve you, Twist. Didn't think I'd ever done anythin' good enough to deserve you…but whatever it was, I sure am glad I did it. I know I can be a right ass sometimes, but…I do love you, Jack."_

_I closed my eyes, and just lay there against him, listenin' to his heart pound in time with his breathin'…/_

**And now the old flames will pass away  
I saw your life once  
Did you see mine?  
But not all things will pass away  
You turned your light off  
So I turned mine  
****Away from your sadness  
****Away from the nothingness you feel for me  
**

**Is this how you wanna go down?  
Right before my eyes  
****You are the saddest sight I know  
You're so quiet and you never make a sound  
But here inside my mind you are the loudest one I know  
And you were right, right from the start,  
****It took everything you had, but you finally broke my ...  
**

I pulled the top off the urn and reached inside, scoopin' out a handful of ashes and lettin' the ashes sift through my fingers to be pulled away by the wind. My tears still flowin', I spread the rest of the ashes on the ground, and stood there holdin' the empty urn as a wind picked up and sent the ashes swirlin' around me and around Brokeback, around the only place where me and Ennis were ever really happy together.

I put the top back on the urn, and stowed it safely back in my pack on the horse's saddle; then I climbed up onto the horse, and rode away without lookin' back.

**Quote, hey listen cause I'll only say this once  
I finally found the words  
That mean enough to me  
Goodbye my soul, unquote**

:> 


	6. Keep on Driving

**- Keep on Driving - **

"Well, I guess I'll see ya around, huh."

The words tore through Jack, though he did his best to hide the pain. "Right," he said softly, looking down at the ground and then back up to meet Ennis's eyes. They stood there, looking at each other, both waiting for the other to say something. Then Ennis cast his eyes down to the ground and turned away. Helplessly, hopelessly, Jack watched him go, feeling like a part of him was walking away with Ennis del Mar.

"Ennis!" Jack called out suddenly, and the other man stopped, turning to look questioningly over his shoulder at Jack. Unsure of what had made him say anything, Jack quickly said, "Maybe…maybe I could give you a ride…to wherever it is you're goin'…" He ended it with a question, a final hope, in his voice.

Ennis didn't answer right away; then, softly, "Yeah…yeah, sure…" And he walked back towards Jack's truck, each step seeming to replace a piece of Jack's heart.

They climbed in, Jack settling into the driver's seat, Ennis sitting as close as was possible to the door with his bag on his lap. They said nothing throughout the drive, though Jack fiddled with the radio for a little while, but nothing came in, and he let the silence reign again.

They came to Riverton, and Jack finally turned to Ennis and asked, "Where to?"

Ennis didn't turn his eyes away from the window. "Just…keep drivin'," he said softly, and Jack did.

At the very outskirts of Riverton, Jack again turned to Ennis, feeling very confused. "Ennis?"

"Yeah?"

"We're nearly outta Riverton…"

"Yeah."

"Thought you said you lived 'round here…?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, d'you want me to stop, or what?"

And Ennis finally turned to Jack. "You still goin' up t' your daddy's place?" he demanded.

"Yeah…why?"

Ennis took a deep breath. "You reckon you could use another set a hands?"

Jack turned to stare at him in shock; Ennis stared levelly back. Jack tried to convince himself that he hadn't heard what he'd heard, because to hope would be too much…

A loud honk sounded, reminding Jack that he was on a road, and he swerved his pick-up just in time to avoid colliding with another. He managed to get the truck over to the side of the road, even with his hands shaking as badly as they were, and turned again to look at Ennis, who still gazed calmly at Jack, untroubled by the near-accident. "Whaddya say, rodeo?"

Jack closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'd appreciate that."

:>


	7. Everything Changes III

I sat with the back of the chair leaned up against the side of the house, the chair balancing solidly on two legs, and placed one of my feet against the railing to keep the chair where it was. I'd tucked my arms up around my chest and allowed my chin to fall forward—almost asleep, but not quite. At least not yet.

"Ennis."

A hand gently shook my shoulder, and I lifted my head to look up into Jack's gentle blue eyes, gazing down at me lovingly. "Welcome back to the world, dreamer. 'S almost five…"

"I been asleep that long?" I asked blearily, rubbing at my eyes with the back of one hand and lowering my chair back down to all four legs.

"Yeah. I thought you could prob'ly use the sleep."

I smiled tiredly, and he returned it with one of the brilliant smiles that always made my heart beat faster. "Thanks, bud. You seen any sign a her yet?"

"Nothin'. Thought about climbin' one a the trees… Ya can't see a single goddamn thing for all the hills… Anyway, I got supper all ready an' waitin'…" He stopped at the distinct rumble of an engine, and a wide grin spread across his face. He jumped up and ran to the rail, leaning out over it as far as he could in an attempt to see who was coming. Finally, the car cruised into view; with a happy whoop, Jack vaulted over the railing and ran to the car as it pulled up, and nearly dragged Alma, Jr. out of the car and into a giant bearhug. _He ain't changed a bit_, I thought as I rose to my feet, grimacing slightly at the pain in my arthritic knees. Over the past five years we'd been on our little ranch, Jack had become more and more like the Jack of our Brokeback days, acting like he was twenty years younger than he was. I wasn't going to complain—I loved Jack most when he was like this.

I made my way down the three steps to the ground, and Alma, Jr. met me halfway; I wrapped her in a hug of my own—if not as powerful as Jack's, certainly more loving. "How ya been, Junior?" I asked, smiling down at her—she was as small as her mother had ever been.

Her eyes were bright—with tears?—as she smiled back at me. "I'm doin' good, Daddy. Real good. Jack says you're fine, too…?"

"Never been healthier," I assured her, though we all knew it was a lie.

"Come on," Jack said eagerly, rocking back on his heels, the grin still plastered on his face. Having dragged Alma's suitcases from the trunk, he herded us towards the door, but not before I'd wrapped my arm around Junior's shoulders. "I got food ready, an' wine—"

"Wine?" I repeated, looking back at him.

"Yeah, wine. It ain't every day we got a famous New York writer visitin' our house." Alma's face flushed with pleasure, though she kept her eyes modestly on the ground—something she'd inherited from me, no doubt.

Inside, Jack pushed Junior and I into chairs at the kitchen table, and immediately set to serving us both. He was moving so fast it was impossible to keep up with him, and I finally ordered him to sit his own ass down and eat, we had plenty of food on our plates already.

"But…I still got food in the oven…"

"If it's anythin' like the rest a your cookin', it's prob'ly ruined already. A few more minutes in the oven won't do it no harm." I pointed my fork at the chair next to me. "Sit."

Junior watched it all with a small smile on her pretty face.

Over the meal—which was, surprisingly, edible—Jack and I questioned her about life in New York City, about how her books were selling, about how she and her husband Kurt were doing. Jack teasingly asked when she was going to start popping out kids, giving Junior cause to hit him, albeit gently, on the arm. My food done, I put my silverware down and leaned back in my chair, looking over at Alma. "So, Junior—what's brought ya here? Ya said on the phone there was somethin' ya needed to talk to me about, but ya weren't real clear…"

"Ennis!" Jack exclaimed. "She's hardly got here, an' already you're—"

"It's alright, Jack," Alma said, smiling a little. "You go sit down, Daddy. Me and Jack will get everything cleaned up, and then we'll talk."

Nodding to myself, I started to rise from my chair, Jack jumping up to help me; he released me as soon as I was on my feet, and I shuffled over to the big, comfortable chair where I spent most of my time whenever I was indoors. I allowed myself to sink into it, sighing happily, and stretched my legs out, resting the heels of my boots on the coffee table. I watched out of the corners of my eyes as Jack and Alma, Jr. cleared the table and washed the dishes, Jack gently teasing my daughter—though she got in a few jibes of her own. They were like old friends. I envied Jack the relationship he had with Junior, even though I knew that mine with her was something much deeper than their friendship could ever be. But I wished sometimes that I could talk to her as easily as Jack could—hell, I wished I could talk to _anyone_ as easily as Jack could. I sighed, and closed my eyes.

"Don't you fall asleep on us now, cowboy," Jack said sternly, dropping into the chair next to mine. We'd spent many a night sitting in these two chairs in front of the fireplace, sometimes talking, usually just enjoying the nearness of the other. Junior sat down on the only other furniture in the living room, the small couch where Jack and I often curled up together.

"Why I'm here, Daddy," Alma, Jr. said, plunging right in, "is because I wanted to tell you I've got an idea for another book. Talked to my publicist about it, and he thinks it's a good idea, too."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You coulda told me _that_ on the phone, and I woulda been just as proud."

She blushed a little, but hurried on. "Thing is, Daddy, my book…I wanna make it about you. You and Jack." I said nothing, and neither did Jack; though she looked a little nervous now, Junior continued. "I want it to be about how you met that first time, all the things that happened…up till you ended up here." She seemed to have run out of anything more to say, and now looked profoundly uncomfortable, though still hopeful.

I glanced over at Jack. He was slouched down in his chair, a fist held up to his mouth and slowly tracing the line of his upper lip. He stared at some spot on the floor beyond the coffee table—thinking. I couldn't have said anything even if I'd known what to say, but Jack found his voice sooner than I did. "Seems like a fine idea to me," he said softly, meeting Alma's eyes. And then they both turned to me, for they knew that Jack's by-your-leave meant nothing without mine to accompany it.

I shook my head helplessly, managed to say, "Alma…"

Jack quickly jumped in. "Give us a while to talk it over," he said to Alma, nodding, looking from her to me, his blue eyes troubled. "Big decision to make…"

"Yeah," Junior agreed promptly, nodding as hard as Jack. "We'll talk more tomorrow." She rose and hurried off to the guest bedroom where Jack had put her things.

Jack turned to me, and slid down onto the floor next to my chair, reaching out to wrap my hands in his. "Ennis? Come on, cowboy, we'll go talk a little…" I just nodded, I still being without words or voice. He helped me up and we walked into our bedroom; I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and Jack sat next to me, one leg tucked beneath him, his body turned so he faced me completely. He took one of my hands again, squeezing it gently. Finally finding my voice, I turned to look at him and said softly, "It's our life, Jack. Ours."

"I know." He reached out to gently stroke the side of my face with the backs of his fingers, his eyes full of only concern and love—for me, which never ceased to send a happy tingling up my spine. "But things ain't like they was back in our day. People're a lot more acceptin' nowadays. Town just down the way, near everyone knows we're shacked up together, and don't no one seem to care. It just ain't such a big thing no more. Hell, I ran into a couple a guys like us just last week, livin' together; had a few drinks with 'em spent some time talkin'. They been livin' there their whole lives, both of 'em, and a whole load a people know they're…how'd he put it? 'close friends,' that's it…and they ain't treated no differ'nt 'cause a it." He realized he was babbling, and stopped, blinked a few times, tried to find his original train of thought… "Anyways, what I'm tryin' to say…it wouldn't be all that bad, would it? Havin' Junior write her book about us…"

I shook my head again, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me against his chest, cradling me there like I was a young child. "I don't want people readin' about us, Jack…readin' about our personal lives…all them things we did…" I pressed my face to his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt. "They're ours. Don't want no one else knowin' 'em."

"Shh, it's alright, Ennis, it's alright…she won't write the book if you don't want her to, that's why she came here to ask you before she did anythin' about it. Come on, now, it's late an' we've had a long day…"

He pulled my boots off after I'd slowly stretched out on the bed, and he got my shirt off before I rolled over onto my side and buried my face in the pillow. "Our lives, Jack. Our lives…no one else's…" He rubbed my back gently with one hand until I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up, I was alone in the bed, but I didn't panic: Jack often got up in the middle of the night and wandered around the house, sometimes ventured outside. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, wincing, and got up—I could do it by myself, but if Jack could have his way, I'd never be in any pain at all, and his helping hands did lessen the pain. Scratching my stomach, I walked out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen and living room; I heard the soft voices, Alma's and Jack's, and rounded the corner to see them sitting at the kitchen table. Jack saw me first, and was half out of his seat in an instant.

"You alright, Ennis? You need anythin'?"

"I'm fine, Jack, sit back down." But he remained standing until I'd taken my own chair.

Alma glanced from Jack to me and back again. Jack nodded a little, said to me, "Junior and me, we been talkin'…'bout her book. She says she won't put anythin' in there we don't want, and she wouldn't use our names…"

"It'd be me tellin' the story, Daddy," Alma explained quickly. "I'd always call you Daddy, or somethin' like that, and I wouldn't use Jack's last name… And you know I write under a different name, so no one could figure out it was you and Jack I was talkin' about…" She was begging me with her voice and her eyes, and I felt my heart go out to her…but still… "I really wanna do this, Daddy. People…people need to be shaken up every now and then, and this would do it…"

Jack's fingers wrapped around mine, drawing my attention to him. "You remember how you were in the beginnin', Ennis? So afraid that somethin' bad might happen… Well, what if there's some other young Ennis out there who's fallen in love with a Jack and doesn't know what to do… I keep thinkin' that, maybe, if someone like that read this book Junior wants to make, it could help someone, someone who's as confused as you were. Those fours years apart were awful, Ennis, an' I wouldn't want somethin' like that happenin' to anyone else, not if there was somethin' we could do to help…"

I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, felt Jack's fingers tighten around mine; I squeezed them back, opened my eyes and looked at Alma. "You won't put anythin' in we don't want you to?"

"No, Daddy."

I nodded a little, had to swallow again. "Fine. You can do it."

Her lip trembled a little, and I could see tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered. "You won't be sorry, I promise."

"I know," I said, turning to receive Jack's gentle, proud smile.

:>


	8. What We Got

Just a pointless little piece, rather schmaltzy (heh, new favorite word, thanks Steve), but something I've been wanting to write for a while. I know the title is similar to "What He Wants," but the two are completely unrelated.

**- What We Got -**

We were layin' together in the tent, me on my back, Ennis pressed up against my side, his head on my shoulder, one a his arms layin' over my waist; I had my arm around his shoulders to keep him where he was, and had my other hand layin' on his arm. It was a peaceful night, quiet, but I wasn't feelin' too peaceful. "What is this, Ennis?" I asked softly. "Do we…do we got somethin' here? We…we do it often as we can, an…an I can't stop thinkin' 'bout ya… What do we got here?"

He didn't say nothin' for a real long time; then, softly, "I don't know, Jack."

I closed my eyes, ground my teeth together. I'd wanted a real answer. I _needed_ to know what this meant to him…'cause I was afraid it was startin' to mean too much to me. Had to remind myself that this was Ennis I was talkin' to—Ennis, who never let his real feelin's show, and who'd never be able to think of the right words anyway. For all I knew, Ennis was just in this for the fuckin'—I didn't think that was true, but I'd never know for sure, 'cause he'd never tell me nothin'. I started feelin' a little bitter then, wonderin' why I cared so much about him when I'd never know whether he cared about me at all…

The hand he had wrapped around my waist tightened suddenly, the fingers holdin' tightly onto me; he turned his face to press it against my neck, an he said softly, "I need this, Jack. Need this…need you…" I could feel his tears wet on my neck, an I held him real tight, pullin' him against me and turnin' to face him so our chests were pressed together. I held his head down against my shoulder, rockin' him gently while he cried softly.

"I'm here for ya, Ennis," I whispered. "I'll always be here for ya." I kept my lips pressed against the top of his head, murmurin' anythin' comfortin' I could think of, until his shoulders stopped shakin' and my shoulder wasn't getting' any more wet.

He pulled away a little, and I loosened my arms. He wiped his nose on the back a his hand, then rolled away from me and onto his back. I let him go, even though I didn't want to. "I'm gonna sleep now," he said softly, his eyes already closed. After a while, I pulled the blankets over both of us and lay down next to him, not too close, makin' sure we weren't touchin'. But when I woke up in the mornin', I was layin' up on my side and Ennis was pressed up tight behind me, one a his arms bent up under my head like a pillow and his other arm wrapped over my chest to keep me where I was, my back to his chest. I just lay there a while, keepin' my eyes closed, not wantin' him to know I was awake yet—'cause soon as he knew I was awake, he'd pull away, not wantin' to show any sort of carin' towards me. But I knew _he_ was awake: I could feel his hand gently strokin' my chest, his fingers runnin' through the hair I had growin' there.

Then he shook my shoulder gently, said, "Come on, bud, time to get up."

"Mornin' already?" I asked softly. I felt him start to pull away, so I quickly reached up an grabbed onto his hand, keepin' it against my chest an keepin' him where he was.

"Jack…"

"We gotta talk, Ennis," I said firmly, turnin' to face him an still keepin' a tight hold on his hand. I tried to make him see how serious I was, an it musta worked 'cause he stopped tryin' to pull away. "I need to know what this thing we got means to you. What…what d'you want outta this?"

His face creased like he was in pain, an he shook his head. "I don't know…"

"Damnit, Ennis! For once, would ya just give me truth instead a one a your bullshit answers? I need to know what this means, Ennis, an I need a straight answer. Just…pretend like it don't matter what you say…like nothin' bad'll happen, no matter what you say…like everythin'll be alright…"

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but didn't turn away from me. I could feel tears in my own eyes, but I didn't try to wipe 'em away. His voice was barely even a whisper when he said, "I don't want this to end, Jack. Don't want it to never end…"

I had to swallow hard, an smiled even though I was cryin'. I leaned down an kissed him, real gentle. "Then it won't," I said softly. "We won't let it end."

:>


	9. Post Reunion

**- Post-Reunion -**

Jack and Ennis flew down the stairs, taking the steps two or three at a time. Feeling happier than he had in years, Ennis grabbed Jack's shoulders and shook him, making Jack look back and give the same innocent laugh Ennis remembered from Brokeback. Ennis slapped one of Jack's shoulders before releasing the man to run around to the other side of the pick-up, yanking the door open and jumping in just as Jack started up the engine.

In little time, they were out of Riverton, both trying not to grin too broadly, though Jack was having little success. "Where to, cowboy?" he asked Ennis, stealing a glance.

"Place I know about…turn there!"

The turn came up so suddenly that the pick-up rose up on two wheels in its attempt to make the corner. Jack held onto the steering wheel for dear life, fighting the centripetal force—a battle Ennis was already losing. Both men whooped madly when the truck landed back on all fours, and Ennis pounded a fist against the door, grinning and laughing like Jack had never seen him. Feeling giddy and very childish, Jack stepped on the gas and the pick-up jumped forward, finding each and every pothole one the washboard road, and bouncing Jack and Ennis around inside. The two shouted and whooped, Jack yelling like he was riding a bull again.

Finally, when Jack was afraid the pick-up couldn't handle anymore of this treatment, he pulled her over to the side of the road. Jack and Ennis sat inside, panting and grinning, both keeping their eyes fixed out on the road. "I missed you, Ennis," Jack said softly, fighting the urge to turn to see Ennis's reaction.

"Missed you, too, cowboy." It was so much easier to say these things when no eye contact was required. "Glad you sent that postcard."

"Yeah, that. Been plannin' to do it for about the past three years but there was always somethin' to keep me from doin' it…"

Ennis nodded wisely. "I thought about doin' it a few times myself," he lied, "but I didn't know where the hell you might be livin'." He finally turned to look at Jack, raising an eyebrow. "Texas?"

Jack grinned. "Yeah, Texas. Big fuckin' place, lots a rodeos."

"You still rodeo?"

"Nah, don't need to. Lureen's daddy gave me a job, sellin' stuff. Lureen says I'm doin' pretty good. What about you? Thought you said you wanted to get a ranch?"

"Alma wasn't too agreeable far as the ranch goes. Wanted to live near people, so our daughters'd have other kids t' play with… I been havin' to work my ass off just to make rent each month, but I s'pose she's happy."

"An' are _you_ happy, Ennis?"

He shrugged. "Not really, but there ain't nothin' I can do. Got my daughters t' raise."

Jack nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he stared out into space. Then he blinked, narrowed his eyes at the road, stuck his head out the window and looked behind the truck—then threw himself at Ennis, pinning the bigger man against the door and kissing him fiercely. Ennis barely had the time to be shocked, for Jack ended the kiss abruptly and leaned down to rest his head on Ennis's chest, laying down on top of the other man. "Damn, I missed you," Jack whispered.

Not quite knowing what to do, Ennis hesitantly put his arms around Jack's shoulders. Four years…four years was a fuckin' long time, and with Jack pressed up against him as he was now… "Jack," Ennis said, his voice a little strained with the effort to keep Ennis, Jr. under control, "come on, bud…let's get to that place I said…"

Jack pulled away, nodding, and quickly settled himself back in the driver's seat. Ennis dragged himself back up into his proper position, his heart hammering against his chest. _Need to get to that motel fast…_ Jack's urgency seemed to be just as great, and he floored it again, sending the pick-up zipping on down the road, its occupants silent now.

:>


	10. Sheeps Is Stupid Critters

**- Sheeps Is Stupid Critters -**

Jack had finally found something besides non-stop talking to occupy his time, and I was glad of the respite my ears got. And besides, Jack's new hobby was certainly entertaining enough: scaring the sheep. Jack never seemed to tire of sneaking up behind the poor, stupid creatures, and shouting at the top of his lungs; the sheep would become paralyzed and tip over to the side, laying there unmoving, while Jack himself collapsed to the ground in fits of laughter. I spent much of my time watching this free entertainment, shaking my head and laughing.

"Come on, Ennis!" Jack called one day, wiping tears from his eyes as he dragged himself up from the ground. The sheep he'd just frightened near to death was trying to do the same thing, though with much less grace. Not that Jack was particularly graceful; he just happened to be more graceful than one half-dead (and probably deaf now) sheep. "You _gotta_ try this!"

"I think I'll pass," I called back.

"Ennis," he whined. "You ain't no fun."

"I sure am havin' fun watchin' you make a fool a yourself. I'm just waitin' for the time you get it in your head to try and scare the horses."

"That's for next week," he called, and I had to laugh. He walked up the hill to sit down beside me. He looked at me out of the corners of his eyes. "You gotta try it, just once," he cajoled.

"I ain't gonna do it, Jack."

"Do it once, an' I swear I won't bother ya 'bout it no more."

"An' that promise would last, what, ten minutes?"

"I reckon more like five. But it's great fun, Ennis. Ya ain't lived till you've scared a sheep."

"I know plenty of people livin' who ain't ever scared sheep."

"Well, they ain't really livin'. They're just shells a what they woulda been if they'd ever scared some sheep."

"Jack, sometimes I think you're a idiot."

"Where I come from, friend, that's a right compliment. Most people say my kind's the scum a the earth, or somethin' like that. I'd much rather be an idiot than scum."

I chuckled, and shook my head at him.

He poked my arm. "So will you come scare a sheep now?"

"No."

He poked me again. "You know you want to." Poke.

"No, I don't." Poke. Poke. Poke. "I'm gonna break your finger."

"I got nine more." Poke. Poke.

"What if I break 'em all?"

Poke. "Still got toes." Poke. "Just one sheep." Poke. "One little one." Poke. "Ya don't even have to scream real loud." Poke. "Just give it a little sudden push." Poke. "That's all it takes, one little shove." Poke. Poke.

"Would'ja stop pokin' me?"

"Not till you come scare a sheep." Poke.

"I'm not gonna do it, Jack."

"You know you are, Ennis. You're gonna give in sometime." Poke. Poke.

"No, I'm not." At least I couldn't now, not with that challenge. But I could stand only a few minutes more of the poking and persuading, and then I reached out and grabbed his wrist in mid-poke, twisted his arm around, and applied enough pressure that he had to flop down on the ground to keep his shoulder from popping out. "You done now?" I asked calmly, making it very clear what answer I expected.

He glared up at me. "No." I put more pressure on his arm, and he arched his back, spitting out, "I'm done, I'm done, le'go a me!" Smiling, I released him; he sat back up, holding his wrist protectively against his chest and rubbing it gently with his other hand. "Fuckin' bastard," he said to me with a glare.

I shrugged. "I warned you to stop pokin' me. I coulda been a lot meaner."

He lost the pathetically pained look, and took on a pathetically hopeful expression. "Will ya come scare a sheep now?"

I gave a long-suffering sigh, rubbing my face with one hand. "Fine, but only if you'll stop botherin' me about it!"

"Deal!" he cried, jumping up and galloping down the hill towards the sheep. Shaking my head, I followed.

We crouched down near the sheep, and he peered around, finally pointing. "Goin' fer that one."

"Which one?"

"That one, right there."

"Right _where_?"

"Over there—real fat, kinda away from that other group…"

"Jack, you just described about fifty sheep."

"It's that one, right there…! 'Bout twenty feet in front a us."

"Okay." There were still five sheep it could possibly be, but I thought it best to just go along with Jack. It would be much less painful.

Satisfied that I knew which sheep he'd been pointing at, Jack gave me my instructions: "Gotta creep in real slow, quiet as ya can. If she starts to turn, _you_ freeze, an' don't move till she turns back 'round. Soon's you get to her, give 'er a good shove an' a shout." He grinned. "I swear, Ennis, you're gonna have fun. Go on."

And so I went, creeping through the baaing sheep towards my quarry, who seemed unaware of my presence as she grazed. She lifted her head a few times to bleat at another sheep, and I froze each time, just like Jack had told me to, but she never once looked at me. I came up just behind her, paused, then shoved and shouted. The ewe stiffened up and toppled over to the side, and Jack whooped and collapsed with laughter. Shaking my head and smirking, I watched the ewe get up and flee in terror before I walked back to Jack. "Satisfied?" I asked.

"For now," he said as he wiped tears from his eyes. "But I'm gonna need your help with the horses."

:>


	11. The Postcard

**- The Postcard -**

Jack paced restlessly around the small room. Had anyone been standing in the doorway, looking in on the room, they might have compared Jack Twist to a caged lion, prowling back and forth and muttering to himself, occasionally letting out a growl of anger. Unlike with a lion, though, a person in the doorway might have heard what Jack was muttering: "Four years…four _fuckin'_ years…been thinkin' bout this all that time, thinkin' what I'd say to him…can't think of a goddamn word to say _now_, a course…" A person in the doorway may have been confused by these words but, as is true in most cases of muttering, the muttered words are not meant for others' ears. Such was true in the case of Jack Twist's mutters.

Jack looked angrily over at the small desk, upon which sat a postcard. Had the person in the doorway walked to the desk, they would have seen that the postcard was addressed to a "Mr. Ennis Del Mar" of Riverton, Wyoming. The message side of the postcard, though, was blank. The cause of Jack's muttering.

"'Dear Ennis'," Jack exclaimed suddenly, then threw his hands up into the air. "Sounds fuckin' stupid. 'Hey Ennis, it's been a long time'… That ain't no good neither. 'Cowboy'…shit no. 'Bud'… 'Friend'…" Jack's eyes lit up, and he hurried over to the desk, grabbing the pen he'd used to address the postcard, and quickly scrawled out "Friend" lest he forget the perfect greeting. Grinning, he leaned back to admire his work, but the smile slid slowly from his face. There was still space on the card.

_Shit._

He returned to his pacing.

"Lemme think, lemme think… 'Been a while, thought I'd drop you a line'…ah, no good, no good, somethin' differ'nt… 'How's it goin'?' …Makes it sound like I don't really care… Come on, Twist, think, _think_…gotta be somethin' to say… 'Shoulda wrote this letter a long time ago'… Nah, don't sound quite right…but close…almost there… 'This letter is long over due'… That's it!" He ran back to the desk and scribbled this next line. It still wasn't enough.

"Gotta tell him I'll be around… 'Be near Riverton 'round the 24th'… Not good 'nough… Le'see… 'Gonna be around your place near the 24th'…I don' even know where he fuckin' lives! How do I know I'll be near his place? Stupid—!" He hit himself on the side of the head, shoved his hands into his pocket, and resumed pacing. " '24th I'll be around Riverton'…already fuckin' tried that, didn't work then, don't work now… 'Driving through'… No. 'Coming through'… Yeah, 'Coming through on the 24th'. Yeah, sounds good, yeah!" He added this line. The white space did not seem to want to disappear.

"Alright, Jack…just one more line, one more little line… Want him to write back, I guess… 'Drop me a line'…sure, that's fine, but it needs somethin' more… Well, I gotta find out where he lives and 'Tell me where you live' ain't gonna work, gotta be nicer'n that… 'Drop me a line…with your address'? No, no, no… 'Drop me a line…' I don' know." He shook his head helplessly, pursing his lips. He lifted his hand to bite one of his fingers thoughtfully, then snatched his hat up from its place on the desk and shoved it down on his head. "…Help me think… 'Drop me a line…', 'Drop me a line…', 'Drop me a line…' Come on, Twist, you're smarter'n this. It's a stupid fuckin' postcard…prob'ly won't even get to him anyway…" He stopped, the thought occurring to him for the first time. "Maybe I should send two, case one don't reach him…but what if they both get there? Then I'll look right stupid… I'll send one, give it a month, send another one if I haven't heard from him by then. That's what I'll do." He nodded, greatly satisfied with this plan…until he remembered that he had to finish this one postcard first. "'Drop me a line…say if you're there'? It'll have to fuckin' do…can't think no more…" He quickly wrote the final line onto the postcard, and slowly, carefully, wrote his own name. That done, he checked the lines to make sure they were perfect…

'_Friend this letter is long over due. Coming through on the 24th Drop me a line say if your there Jack'_

As far as he could tell, it was perfect, and he found himself grinning again. Four fuckin' years…and now, if things all went well, he'd be seeing Ennis again…

But first, he had to mail the postcard.

:>


	12. Falls On Me

Inspired by one of my favorite songs of all time, "Falls On Me," by Fuel. I had intended for this to be a songfic, but I couldn't seem to weave the lyrics in well enough. However, I suggest reading the lyrics because, once you think about them, let them sink in, you (or at least I) realize how perfect they are for the boys.

I feel the need to point out my own brillance. If you'll refer to your movie and go to the "first morning after" scene, we will note that Ennis is quite toussled: pants around his knees, hair looking like a cross-breed between a porqupine and a hedgehog. Jack, on the other hand, is wearing his jacket, curled up under the blankets, hair very organized... This would lead one (me) to guess that while Ennis was "out, down, and asleep" Jack was awake a little while longer. One (me) might wonder what Jack thought about in that time. Thus, this fic was born, and I demand that you proceed to enjoy it.

**- Falls On Me -**

**Jack **

I lay on my stomach, panting a little still, and could hear Ennis already asleep next to me. Couldn't say I was real surprised: he hadn't been more than half-awake through any of it. I rolled onto my back and reached down for my pants, slowly pulling them up over my hips and fixing the buckle in place. I still felt kind of numb: shocked by what I'd dared to do, and how Ennis had reacted to it…

I pushed myself up and searched around for my jacket; Ennis was laying half on top of it, and I had to yank it out from under him, but he hardly even noticed. I shrugged into the jacket, then paused, looking down at Ennis's face. His hair was still damp and a little tousled, but his face was peaceful, like he was having a real good dream. My eyes moved down farther, to where his pants were still open and he hung out, not bothered by the cold; my thoughts slipped back to what we'd just done.

It hadn't been my first time. No, that'd been with my best friend in high school: we'd been roughhousing and our pants had seemed to fly off, and then I was on hands and knees with him behind and inside me. We'd done it a few more times before I'd dropped out of school and gone on to rodeoing; I hadn't talked to him since. I'd had a few more one-night things, but nothing serious, and nothing recent. And I'd been wanting Ennis Del Mar almost since I first saw him outside Aguirre's trailer.

He was an enigma. Just when I thought I had Ennis figured out, I found out something new and had to reanalyze everything I'd thought. We were the same in a lot of ways—both from way the hell in the middle of nowhere, both high-school dropouts, both "ranch stock," both with not much money to our names, both owning little more than what we carried with us. But that was about where the similarity ended.

If I'd just happened to meet Ennis in some casual place, I probably would have spent a few minutes trying to engage him in conversation and then given up after a few monosyllabic answers. It would have just been too much work. But up here on Brokeback…well, what else was there to do? We were going to be spending the whole summer together, and if I'd had to do the talking for both of us in that time, I would end up with a broken jaw—either because I'd talk it off, or Ennis would deck me for annoying him so often.

So I'd made it my mission to get to know Ennis Del Mar, whether he wanted me to or not. I figured that I'd eventually know enough about him to be able to bring up just the right topic to get him talking for more than a few words at a time. And when I did…it was like the sun shining through on a cloudy day. To see him smile, to hear his soft laugh on those rare occasions…I held those moments close, knowing I would never forget them.

And now this. Laying inside the tent with him so close…it was no real surprise my hands found their way inside my pants. But I hadn't been thinking at all when I'd reached behind me and grabbed Ennis hand, and pressed his fingers down against my cock. After just a little while, his fingers sprung open and he nearly flew to the other side of the tent; I spun around as fast as I could and grabbed one of his arms, keeping my eyes locked on his, and pulled my jacket off. I heard him mumble something like "What're you doin'?" but I reached out and grabbed his arms; he tried to push me away, but I held on tight, grabbed onto the sides of his face and felt him do the same to me; I pressed my forehead against his, felt one of his hands stroke the side of my face. He must have seen something in my eyes, or I saw something in his, but then I was on hands and knees. It was over faster than I would have wanted, and he rolled off me and over onto his back, probably falling asleep right then.

_But it was damn better'n any a the other times._ Maybe it was just that I'd gone so long without it…but a part of me knew that it'd been so much better because of who it'd been with. Ennis Del Mar was something special, that was sure.

What was he thinking now? Was he even thinking about what we'd done? And what would happen now? I'd known I was "queer" for a while now, and I was alright with that; but…Ennis wasn't me. He couldn't just accept something like what we'd done—or at least he couldn't accept it right away, if he ever even did. There was no telling with Ennis: you didn't know what he was gonna do until after he'd already done it.

Ennis was the one friend I had in this world. I'd been more open with him than I'd ever been with anyone else, and I knew it was the same for him. I'd spent so much time trying to get him to crawl out of his shell, and I'd finally gotten him to poke his head out…and now I was afraid he was gonna pull it right back in. I didn't want that to happen, but I couldn't think of anything I could do to stop Ennis from pulling back away from me. If he didn't want this… No, that wasn't right. I knew he _did_ want this, else he wouldn't have done it in the first place. But if he got it into his head that this whole thing was "wrong" and that it'd make him queer…well, there was nothing I could do but hope.

Whatever would happen, I wouldn't find out until tomorrow, with Ennis sleeping like he was. So I rolled up under my blankets and somehow managed to fall asleep.

* * *

A cold draft of air woke me up, and I sat up and looked around. Ennis was gone, and the tent flap was open. I swore softly, but I could still hear him outside, saddling up his horse. I grabbed my hat and walked outside slowly. He must have heard me, but he didn't turn, just shoved his gun into its place and then swung up into the saddle. "See you for supper," I said, and he finally looked down at me, real quick, then kicked his horse off down the trail. I watched him go, kept watching long after he was out of sight. 

I had to do something. If I didn't do something I would spend the whole day worrying about something I couldn't do a thing about. So I grabbed my dirty clothes and Ennis's and went down to the creek to wash everything I could, shivering in the cold air but not caring since it numbed me enough to keep me from thinking. But it could only keep me busy for so long. Eventually, I wandered out and sat down on a little hill, looking out at the sheep; I leaned over on one elbow, stretched my legs out, and just let my thoughts come at me.

_He hates me now. He don't care no more. He don't want anythin' to do with me. I ruined everythin' we had. This is all my fault. I want him again…want him so bad…_

I heard footsteps behind me and closed my eyes, not daring to hope but hoping all the same. I looked up, saw him standing there, not looking at me but at the sheep. He sat down slowly and I looked away, feeling my heart hammering against my chest. I couldn't have said anything if I'd tried, and he was as silent as always. Finally, he glanced over at me and said real soft, "This is a one-shot thing we got goin' on here."

I nodded a little. "It's nobody's business but ours."

"You know I ain't queer."

"Me neither," I lied, looking up at him and wondering what the hell this really meant. What did he want?

After a while, he got up and walked back to his horse; I followed him and we rode back to camp. Neither of us said a thing as I made supper, and we ate in silence. He took the dishes down to the creek to clean. I got up, glanced over at where he crouched, scrubbing the plates, then shook my head and ducked into the tent. There was nothing I could do.

I threw my hat against the wall of the tent and flopped down on the blankets, pulling my jacket off and tossing it down near my feet. I let myself be angry for a moment or two—angry at Ennis for what he was putting me through, angry at him for all these things I was feeling—and then I sighed and pulled my shirt off, folded it a little and put it in the corner; grabbed my hat and put it next to my shirt, snatched my jacket and balled it up next to the shirt and hat. I tucked one of my arms up under my head and lay down, staring at nothing and just waiting to hear Ennis ride off down to the sheep.

_There's nothing I can do._

* * *

**Ennis**

I sat by the fire, staring into the flickering flames. I could hear Jack moving around inside the tent, and had to force myself not to look over, afraid that he would see me looking…

Last night…that should never have happened. It had been mistake, a big mistake. Jack and I, we were just friends, nothing more than that. I wanted to pretend like last night had never happened, so that Jack and I could go on like we had been…but my thoughts kept flickering to the tent, and the man inside it…

"I'm not queer," I said aloud, though it was little more than a whisper. "I'm not."

It had been one of the greatest fears for most of my life, ever since I'd seen old Earl dead in the ditch, beaten and dragged around… _That won't never happen to me,_ I'd sworn when I'd been old enough to understand why all that had happened to Earl. And now, this thing with Jack…

I thought of Jack as my closest friend. He knew me better than anyone else ever had—better than anyone else ever would, since I didn't plan on ever opening myself up like I had to Jack. But the thing was, I'd wanted him to know all these things about me, wanted him to know who Ennis Del Mar really was. Soon as he knew all the things about me no one else knew, I could be myself around him, and not have to worry about looking the fool—'cause Jack certainly had that roll down.

What we'd done last night, it was just something stupid…fooling around. It hadn't meant anything, not really. I wasn't queer, and neither was Jack. We were just two normal guys, good friends.

I looked over at the tent, saw Jack stuffing his jacket in a corner of the tent. Swallowing hard, I looked away.

I could keep lying to myself, but…I knew the truth. Jack had known just what he was doing last night, and he'd wanted to do it…and I had hardly tried to stop him…because I had wanted it just as much. Hadn't known I'd wanted it until Jack had shown it to me…and had finally realized what all the things I'd been feeling for the past weeks really meant.

_Damn you, Jack…damn you for what you're doin' to me… I can't do this…_

_But I want him so bad._

The thought surprised me, but I knew instantly that it was the truth. I would never have thought something like that unless it was the truth.

Looking again at the tent, I saw Jack stretched out on his back, and my heart began to beat a little faster as I got slowly to my feet.

_This is wrong,_ I thought desperately as I moved closer to the tent. _I…no, I can't do this… The sheep! The sheep need me…have to get down to the sheep…can't be here…anywhere but here…_ But my feet carried me to the tent without me ever really trying to stop them.

* * *

**Jack**

Gravel crunched, and I looked over to see Ennis walking towards the tent, his hat held in both hands. He crouched down and ducked inside, and I sat up, my heart pounding. I reached out and put my hand on one of his arms, looking deep into eyes, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted. He met my eyes, and didn't look away, letting me read what I wanted to in them. I took his hat gently out of his hands and set it down next to mine; he looked away then—maybe I'd let him read too much in _my_ eyes—and I reached out to stroke the side of his face with my hand, begging him without words to look at me. And when he did, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against his, hearing how hard he was breathing—or maybe how hard I was breathing, I wasn't sure which of us it was. I pulled my mouth away, but our faces were still pressed together; he looked down, maybe a little ashamed, but I kept my hand on his face and whispered, "It's alright. It's alright." He nodded a little, and I leaned back, pulling his head down on my chest, moving one of my hands down to hold onto his arm and wrapping my own arm around the back of his head, burying my fingers in his hair and holding his head tightly against me. He looked like he was going to cry, and he reached for my face like he thought I was about to disappear. I pressed my lips against the top of his head, holding him as tight as I could; he buried his face in my shoulder, moved his hand down over my chest to grab at my side, and I pulled him even closer, felt his tears on my shoulder and rocked him a little bit. Then he lifted his head up and our lips met, and I rolled him gently onto his back, still kissing him. I lifted my head up long enough to look into eyes, to make sure that he really did want this; I was more than convinced when he lifted his own lips to mine, and refused to let them go.

:>


	13. Come Back For Me

As far as being historically accurate goes, I don't really care, not when it's just fanfiction I'm writing. So if the historical accuracy is crap, I apologize, but I'm really just worried about getting this fic out.

**- Come Back For Me -**

Jack Twist glanced over at the rearview mirror, and saw Ennis, walking slowly, purposefully, down the road. His image blurred with the rattling of Jack's truck, becoming little more than a colored splotch. Jack was suddenly, irrationally, afraid that this image of Ennis, and the real Ennis himself, would disappear like mist, drifting away on the breeze. He shoved the fear down, swallowed hard, turned to stare back out at the road ahead of him. But his eyes were drawn back to the mirror…and though he desperately searched its surface, the image of Ennis was nowhere to be seen. Feeling the fear rise within him again, Jack twisted around and leaned out the window, looking back the way he had just come, looking at right where Ennis should have been…but wasn't.

Shaking, Jack sat back in his seat, gripping the steering wheel as hard as he could. _I'll go back…drive back, find out where he went…_ And though he wanted with all his being to do so, Jack was paralyzed, immobile, his mind numb save for the fear…the fear that Ennis had disappeared, or that maybe he was hurt…the fear that Jack would never see him again…

Jack stared sightlessly ahead, not seeing the road, visions of Ennis floating before his eyes and blocking out all other thoughts. _Ennis…Ennis…please, Ennis, come back for me…I need you…Ennis…I can't turn around…I need your help…Ennis, please…Ennis…Ennis…Ennis…Ennis…_ It was no surprise that he didn't see the semi-truck until it had already collided with the front of his pick-up, unable to slow or swerve to avoid him, and then all went black for Jack Twist.

* * *

Ennis Del Mar crouched in the narrow, putrid alley between two buildings, retching dryly, his stomach in knots. Half gasping, half crying, he curled in upon himself, tears streaking down his cheeks, feeling as if his guts were being slowly pulled out of him. "Come on, Ennis," he gasped. "Get a hold a yourself…" But he couldn't, and through the pain, a single image came to mind: Jack…his smiling face, his bright blue eyes, the willing smile that made deep lines around his mouth and made his whole face glow…

The pain in Ennis's stomach lessened a little—enough, at least, that he could stand. He wiped furiously at his eyes, shoved his hat back onto his head, and retrieved his bag from the ground; he took a deep, calming breath, ordered his stomach to cooperate, and started back down the street—only to jump away as an ambulance sped by, sirens blaring, with other sirened cars following close on its tail. He could see people flocking after the ambulance; he ran up and grabbed one man's arm, demanding to know what had happened. "Semi ran straight into a pick-up," the man said, pulling his arm from Ennis's grip and continuing on his way to the scene. Ennis felt himself go cold, and the bag slipped from his fingers; and then he was running, shoving people out of his way, his mind filled with a loud, angry buzzing that blocked out all else. _Please, God…please don't let it be Jack…please…_

When he reached the accident, the emergency crews had managed to pry a body out of the wreck that had once been a pick-up…the same pick up that, only minutes ago, Ennis had leaned against. He stared in horrified shock at the body laying on the ground, paramedics working furiously to revive him. Even under all the blood, Ennis could easily recognize Jack's parka.

Ennis stumbled forward, but a policeman stopped him, ordering him to stay back. "I know him," Ennis said urgently, not caring that he was probably crying. "His name's Jack Twist…I know him, he's my friend…" They were loading him into the ambulance now, and Ennis was desperate to get through; the officer called to one of the paramedics, saying that Ennis knew "the victim." The paramedic called for Ennis to hurry and he did, was practically dragged into the ambulance and told to keep out of the way. He huddled in a corner, staring in grief-stricken horror and the bloody face that was no longer smiling, the shuttered blue orbs…

"Oh, God…Jack…" No one heard the whisper. Ennis dropped his face into his hands, trying to hide that he was crying, but none of the occupants of the ambulance took any notice of him as they sped to the nearest hospital.

* * *

Ennis sat in the waiting room, slouched in one of the chairs. A doctor had come to tell him that Jack was alive, though the doctors had had to perform many surgeries whose names and purposes Ennis didn't understand or care about. Jack was alive. That was all that mattered.

The doctor had said that Jack was still recovering, and that Ennis should go home and get some sleep; Ennis just shook his head in reply. He would wait here as long as he had to. "A nurse will come an' get you when he wakes up, then," the doctor had said, and left Ennis alone.

Ennis had been awake for well over twenty-four hours, too worried about Jack to sleep; but now, knowing that Jack was going to be fine, Ennis unwillingly drifted off. He woke to a gentle touch on his shoulder, and a thick-set nurse informed him, "He's woke up now, if ya want t' see him."

Ennis nodded, and got up slowly from the chair. He was shaking, though he couldn't have said why. The nurse led him into a small room: two beds, though only one was occupied. This bed was near the large window that looked out over the land, and the bed's occupant had his head turned, staring fixedly at the glass. The nurse left, closing the door behind her; Ennis stood frozen to the floor, unable to move. Jack did not seem to have heard the door open or close.

_Jack…_

Both his arms lay in casts atop the bedcover—the one on the right arm starting midway up the forearm and ending near the shoulder, the left from elbow to fingers—and linen was wrapped tightly around the top of his head, crimson leaking through in a few places. Ennis felt dizzy suddenly, and swayed where he stood; he reached out and grabbed onto the countertop with one hand, putting his other hand over his eyes while he waited for the dizziness to pass. It took its time leaving.

And then Ennis stumbled to the bedside, where a crude wooden chair had been placed; he sat down heavily, and managed to choke out, "Jack."

Slowly, painfully slowly, Jack turned his head to look at Ennis. His face was covered in little cuts, and the bandage around his head extended to cover his left eye. "Ennis?" he whispered, clearly not believing what his eye was telling him he saw.

"Yeah, bud. It's me." Ennis licked suddenly dry lips. "Didn't…didn't they tell ya I was here?"

Jack shook his head, confusion written clearly in the one uncovered eye. "What happened? Why'm I here?"

Ennis shifted a little uncomfortably. "I don't rightly know what happened Jack, at least not how it happened…but if the doctors ain't told ya, I don't know that it's my place—"

"Ennis…please…what happened to me?"

His throat tightened enough that Ennis could barely draw in a breath. He gripped his knees with shaking, white-knuckled hands. "Truck hit ya, Jack," he finally got out, and had to rub at whatever was in his eyes that was making them water so. "Damn near killed ya…"

Jack looked stricken—like he was about to be hit by another truck, Ennis thought, stifling a sob and hiding his face behind his hand. "I'm sorry, Jack," Ennis said softly, trying to pull himself together. "Shouldn't be actin' like this…"

"You came back," Jack whispered. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and disappeared in his hair, and more soon followed. Jack started shaking hard, and Ennis panicked until he realized his friend was crying and not having a seizure or something like that. But he was even more confused as to what he should do now, and started thinking it might be easier if Jack _was_ having a seizure—at least then he'd know what to do.

"Jack," he said softly, uncomfortably. "Come on, bud…it's alright…" Not knowing what else to do, he moved to sit on the edge of Jack's bed; still hesitant, and trying to be as careful as possible, Ennis gathered the wounded and sobbing man into his arms. Jack clung to him with his one good hand, his face pressed against Ennis's shoulder. "Hey, come on now, rodeo," Ennis murmured, though he held on to Jack as tightly as he dared, "you're fine, ain't nothin' more gonna happen…"

"Don't you never leave me again," Jack whispered, his fingers tightening further around Ennis's jacket. He lifted his head and looked Ennis full in the face. "Promise me you won't leave me again, Ennis. I—" His voice broke, and tears started streaming from his eyes again, but he forced himself on: "I need you, Ennis. All I could think about when I was drivin' away was you… Please, Ennis…"

Ennis's throat tightened up on him again, and he would even admit to crying a little. He reached up to gently hold Jack's face in both his hands, and spoke the words before he could even think about what it would mean: "I won't leave ya, Jack. I won't." And he brought Jack's face to his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate, and tasted the tears that were still gathering in the corners of Jack's mouth. Jack collapsed against him when Ennis finally pulled his mouth away, and Ennis wrapped his arms around his friend, his lover, and his love, his promise echoing in his head: _I won't leave ya…I won't leave ya…I won't leave ya…_

Jack's muffled voice drifted up to Ennis's ears, but all the man heard was, "…came back…"

:>


	14. Deeper Than Skin I

This goes out to **onefreetoroam**, who reminded me that I'd been neglecting my duties here. I just watched the movie again, and it was exactly what I needed to get back into the swing of things. This is part one, I'm working on part two even as you read this, and it'll probably be long enough for a part three and four. So.

**- Deeper Than Skin I-**

Ennis drove down the road, praying his truck would get him all the way to his destination. The noises it was making weren't encouraging, and there was nowhere he could stop to get it fixed—not that he had the money to get it fixed anyway. If it would just keep going a little longer… "You get me there," he promised the truck, "I'll use any money I got to get you fixed." And he planned to get at least a little money from this venture—after all, anyone could rodeo, long as you could hold on.

Ennis had seen the poster just yesterday, advertising a rodeo near Lightning Flat with cash prizes. He needed money in a bad way, and as long as he could get to Lightning Flat in time to sign up…

But as luck would have it, the truck died a good twenty miles from Lightning Flat, and no amount of coaxing, begging, or cursing would get it started again. Grabbing his pack, he set off down the road, cursing the truck under his breath.

A few other trucks flew by; Ennis tried to motion them over, hoping to hitch a ride just a little closer to his destination, and a beat-up old truck finally swung over to the side of the road. A young man, no older than Ennis himself, leaned out the passenger side window and called, "Where you headed?"

"Lightning Flat," Ennis called back hopefully.

"I can get you there. Hop in." The man pushed the door open and Ennis hurried to the truck, climbing in and getting the door closed just before the man swung the truck back onto the road. They sat in silence, Ennis holding his pack tightly in his lap, until the man said, "Name's Jack Twist." He nearly tied his arms up in order to shake Ennis's hand and still keep one hand on the wheel.

"Ennis."

Jack glanced at his passenger from the corners of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Your folks just stop at Ennis?"

"Del Mar," Ennis mumbled. He'd never been much for conversations, especially not with strangers, even ones who seemed nice enough.

"What's got you goin' up to Lightning Flat?"

"Rodeo."

Jack grinned. "Small world, that's where I'm goin'. Startin' to think I shouldn't a picked you up: now I'll have more competition."

Ennis gave a noncommittal shrug. "Ain't rodeoed much. Just need the money."

Jack Twist nodded wisely. "Times are tough. What d'you ride?"

Ennis shrugged again. "Broncs…"

"I've always liked the bulls, myself, though they can be damn nasty sometimes…"

Jack kept up a constant flow, only occasionally pausing to breathe or to think of another topic; he didn't seem to expect more than monosyllabic answers from Ennis, which was all he got. By the time they reached the rodeo, Ennis's ears ached and he was grinding his teeth together. This was more companionship than he'd had in the past two years put together, and it was making him a little twitchy. But Jack didn't seem inclined to leave Ennis yet, showing the quiet man where to sign up, where to take his things, where to get ready…and talking throughout all of it. Ennis was sure he would be relieved when Jack had to go for his ride, vowed that he would slip away and hide somewhere so Jack wouldn't find him… But when Jack's name was called, and he hurried away, Ennis felt a pang of…sadness? Loneliness? He wasn't sure what it was, but it caused a strange feeling in his stomach, and the urge to hide from Jack was suddenly gone. Unused to this strange emotion—really, unused to any kind of strong emotion at all—Ennis sat where Jack had left him, and waited.

Jack came back, eyes bright with a grin cleaving his face, and plopped back down next to Ennis. "_Nine_ fuckin' seconds!" he crowed, nearly bouncing with excitement. "Like to see someone beat that! Ain't nobody gonna do it, I won for fuckin' sure—shit, just called your name, better get goin'—"

Ennis's ride could not be thought of as a success: three measly seconds, with the leader already having stayed on twice that long, and many more still to come. Head hung, hands shoved deep into his pockets, Ennis resigned himself to staying broke but decided that he had enough for a drink or two…

It was about an hour later that Jack found him slouched at the bar, half a dozen beer bottles around him. Brow furrowed, the thrill of triumph fading, Jack sat down next to Ennis, who looked at him with bleary, bloodshot eyes. "You win?" Ennis slurred.

"Yeah. I…was gonna buy you a drink, but it don't look like you need anymore…" He paused. "Got a little worried when you didn't come back…"

Ennis shrugged. "Knew I wasn't gonna win. No point hangin' 'round."

"Yeah, I guess. Listen…you need a place to stay the night, my folks live near here, could make up a bed for you…" When Ennis turned to look at him, Jack wondered if he'd crossed a line…but Ennis just stared at him blankly. Jack hurried to explain: "You said you didn't have much money, I could save you havin' to pay for a place to stay…my folks won't mind, my momma's takin' in strays all the time, has a room ready for whoever might turn up on the porch…" Jack knew he was babbling, but it was what he did when he was nervous. With his thoughts as much of a turmoil as they were, it was no wonder he just said whatever popped out of the confusion. He finally convinced himself to stop talking and turned away from Ennis, hunching his shoulders and pulling his hat farther down over his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment. Ennis remained silent.

_Well, dumbass, what'd you expect? Hardly even know him…_ He motioned for a beer, and gave it all his concentration, refusing to look at Ennis. But when a few minutes had passed, and there was still no response, Jack glanced over…and saw Ennis slouched in his chair, most certainly asleep. Frowning, Jack poked Ennis's shoulder, then shook him a little…shook him a little harder… Ennis was out cold.

With the help of a kind stranger, Jack managed to half carry, half drag Ennis to his car and maneuvered the unconscious man into the passenger seat. Jack decided that, if Ennis had been sober or conscious, he would have accepted Jack's invitation; the thought encouraging him, Jack turned the truck towards his parents' house.

* * *

Ennis woke up in a strange bed with an aching head, and looked around himself in utter confusion. The room was small, sparsely decorated, and holding only a bed with a chest at the foot and a small table against the opposite wall. To Ennis's right was the door, to the left a small window. Slowly, Ennis swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose unsteadily to his feet; pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, wove his way to the window and leaned heavily on the sill. Barren plain stretched all around, broken only by the line of the road that wound its way drunkenly to either horizon. Nearer, a dirt driveway led ultimately to the house Ennis was in, with an old barn off to the side; a familiar truck was parked next to the barn. 

_Jack?_ Ennis thought fuzzily. _What…?_

Pressing his hands to his eyes again, Ennis tried to remember what had happened after he'd gotten good and drunk…but memories were fuzzy after the fourth beer. "Need to…find out…" he mumbled aloud. He'd been doing that a lot, lately: talking to himself. Ever since leaving his brother and sister, he'd had no one to talk to, and even though Ennis had never had much to say, and least he'd had people he _could_ talk to. But being alone, he'd only had himself.

Ennis shook his head, hoping that would clear his mind; grabbed his hat from the table and shoved it down onto his head, pulled the door open, buried his hand in his pockets, and walked slowly down the hallway.

He found himself standing in the doorway of a kitchen—a very, very _white_ kitchen—facing the woman seated at the kitchen table. She blinked at him in surprise, then gave a gentle smile. "Mornin'," she said. "Can I get you some coffee?"

"Uh…don't mean t'be rude but…where am I?"

The smile didn't fade from the woman's lips. "Of course. Jack said you'd had a little too much to drink…I'm Jack's mother, and this is my house. Jack's out with his father, fixin' the back fence; you come sit down, I'll get you somethin' to eat and drink."

Ennis wasn't in the habit of refusing a command like that, and he _was_ ravenously hungry; his mouth felt like a squirrel had crawled into it and died there. Mrs. Twist was a fine cook, and kind enough to let Ennis eat in silence. "You look like you haven't had a good meal in days," she commented as she gave him a second serving of eggs and bacon without Ennis even asking.

"Been a little short on cash," Ennis muttered, eyes and attention fixed on the food.

"Can't think of anythin' else that would make a sensible man turn to rodeo. You got any place to go, Ennis Del Mar?"

Ennis shrugged, forking eggs into his mouth, and finally shook his head slightly.

"Well then, I've got a proposition for you. Jack's plannin' on stayin' here a few weeks, to help his daddy out with fixin' this place up; you can stay here, too, help them out—ain't no way just the two a them alone can get done all the work that needs doin', and they'd sure appreciate help." Ennis stared at her, his jaw hanging a little. Then his cheeks took on a red tinge and he ducked his head; he seemed about to protest when Mrs. Twist said, "I won't take no for an answer 'less you can give me a good reason." Her eyes narrowed a little. "Jack did you a kindness, takin' care a you last night, seein' to it that you didn't get thrown out on the road. I think you owe him for that, at least."

She was a wise woman, and knew just the words to summon Ennis's sense of honor and duty. His back straightened ever so slightly, and he glanced at her for a moment. "I thank you for your kindness, ma'am. I'll—I'll stay, if you're sure…"

She smiled. "Oh, I am. You seem a strong young man, very capable. I'm sure John and I won't regret havin' you, an' it'll do Jack good to have a friend around. If you're done eating, you can go out an' help them now—out the back door and straight on, you can't miss 'em."

Jack and his father were working diligently on a fence that very badly needed repairs; Jack welcomed Ennis with a grin, the father with narrowed eyes and a skeptic snort, and gruffly told Ennis to get started. Jack suggested Ennis come hold the boards in place so Jack could nail them in place; shying away from John Twist, Ennis was happy enough to help Jack. The fence was long beyond long, and it seemed as if there was a solid, unrotted board along the whole length, and each one had to be replaced. It wasn't especially grueling work, since Ennis spent most of the time holding boards in place, but the sun was at its peak, and the three men had soon stripped their shirts off. Ennis was very conscious of how scrawny and bony he appeared compared to the other two, and spoke even less. Not that it mattered—Jack did enough talking for five men.

They returned to the house at noon for lunch; Mrs. Twist took one look at them and ordered them all to change into clean clothes, telling Jack to find something that would fit Ennis. Jack's room was on the second floor, up a narrow flight of rickety stairs; his room was only a little larger than the one Ennis had woken up in. He dug through the small closet and finally emerged with clothes he thought might fit Ennis. "Pants might be a little short, since you're taller'n me, but it should do for now." That said, he unselfconsciously pulled off his own clothes and changed into the new ones. Ennis turned his back and changed with a much greater amount of self-consciousness.

They went straight back to the fence after lunch, and worked on it until it became too dark to see. Jack assured Ennis that they'd have it finished by noon tomorrow.

The rest of the week passed in a series of repairs, most of which John Twist oversaw but did not actually help with. The actual labor was left largely to Jack and Ennis, though neither of the young men complained—Jack because he was used to it, Ennis because he was determined to deserve the kindness these people were showing him.

On Sunday morning, though, the routine changed. When Ennis entered the kitchen, John Twist gruffly asked, "You a church-goer, boy?"

"No, sir. Ain't never had the time for it."

Mr. Twist turned a superior look to his wife, which she returned with an ice-cold glare. "It's still the Lord's day," she said firmly. "Boys've been workin' all week. They deserve a rest."

Ennis felt as if he were intruding, and was unsure if he should retreat back to his room or remain and pretend as if nothing were happening…but Jack, galumphing loudly down the stairs, saved him from having to decide. Jack stopped next to Ennis, looked from his mother to his father, and asked warily, "What's goin' on?"

Mrs. Twist spoke before her husband could: "You boys can have the day to do as you please. The work's been put off this long already, another day of waitin' won't do any damage."

Jack's eyes lit up, and a grin creased his face; without a word, he streaked back upstairs, was gone a few moments only; he held a bulging pack in his hands when he returned, and he grabbed Ennis's arm and dragged the man out the front door. Outside, Jack informed Ennis he was going to show his guest to a place he called the high meadow. Ennis allowed himself to be dragged into the barn before he pulled his arm free of Jack's fingers.

The Twists owned three horses: a docile old gelding, a sway-backed mare, and a sprightly young filly that Jack claimed was his. Ennis, noting the way the old mare eyed him, chose to ride the gelding. They went without saddles, for Jack said it was only a short ride, and he held the pack carefully in his lap. As always, Jack talked almost constantly, pointing out places of former mischief and telling stories that Ennis guessed were only half true. It was a comfortable ride, and Ennis felt more at-ease than he had in a very long time.

The high meadow did not appear to Ennis to have a higher elevation than the farmhouse, but it was indeed a meadow, and a rather picturesque one. A good-sized lake, fed by a gurgling stream, whispered to one side of the meadow, and was surrounded on all sides by long grasses and flowers of every variety Ennis had ever seen, and quite a few he'd never seen. They let the horses graze (Jack insisted they wouldn't run off, though Ennis was dubious) and Jack towed his pack and Ennis to the side of the lake, where he sprawled onto the ground and pulled from the pack a flask of whiskey. Ennis, eyebrows raised, lowered himself down next to Jack and said, "Ain't even had anything to eat yet." Jack grinned, and pulled and apple from the pack, tossing it to Ennis and taking another for himself. Ennis shook his head a little, but there was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

They talked, passing the whiskey back and forth, Ennis giving his usual short answers, but at least he was talking. Jack questioned Ennis as to his past, and received the shortest answer possible: his parents had left a while back, and Ennis had been raised by his older brother and sister. They'd both married and moved away, and Ennis had left to find a job. He hadn't found any job he'd been able to keep for more than a few weeks at a time and, desperate, had hoped to win some money at the rodeo. It was the most Jack had heard Ennis say at one time.

It became very warm very fast, and Jack suggested a swim. They stripped their clothes off and plunged into the surprisingly deep water; Jack, in a mood that was even more squirrelly than usual, jumped on Ennis and began a short-lived wrestling match that resulted in Jack's repetitive dunking.

"It's just 'cause you're bigger'n me," Jack proclaimed after he had surrendered and was a safe distance away from Ennis.

"I ain't that much bigger," Ennis protested modestly, though he was very pleased he'd bested Jack. "And you got more muscle than I do."

"I wouldn't say that," Jack said thoughtfully, head tilted a little to one side. "Your muscles are jus' stringier'n mine are. You're _lean_, that's what y'are. But you're least as strong as I am."

Ennis came as close as he ever had to beaming, and his mouth turned distinctively up at the corners. It was the first real smile Jack had ever seen from him, and Jack's own face stretched into a broad grin. Still grinning like a child who's just been given a fistful of money, Jack took a slow drink of whiskey, looking over at Ennis out of the corners of his eyes.


	15. Deeper Than Skin II

**- Deeper Than Skin II -**

Summer came and went, and with its departure came Jack's eagerness to be off. He and his father didn't get along well, and there was only so much fighting Jack could stand. Forking hay into the back of his pick-up one day, Jack suggested that he and Ennis might be able to find a good job at some ranch, working together like they were. Ennis seemed amenable enough to the idea, and so it was that Jack announced to his parents over supper that he and Ennis would be packing up and heading out soon. It was agreed that the boys would paint the outside of the house before they left—it was peeling badly, and Mrs. Twist's complaints had finally driven her husband to buy paint—and Jack and Ennis threw themselves into the work, Jack enduring his father's constant criticism only because he knew he would be rid of it soon enough.

In the end, there was more paint than needed, and Mrs. Twist cheerfully suggested that they paint the fence, too, since it "was such an eyesore," in her words. Jack argued against the idea with all the breath he had until Ennis put a calming hand on his friend's shoulder and reasoned that painting the fence couldn't take more than a few days.

Five days later, Jack was throwing those words back at Ennis, glaring down the long line of unpainted wood. " 'Won't take more'n a few days'," Jack mocked in a token imitation of Ennis's voice. " 'Have the fence done in no time and be on our way'. Fuckin' fence…"

"Didn't seem nearly this long when we was fixin' it up," Ennis muttered in defense. He shoved his hair back out of his eyes and realized belatedly that his hand was covered in paint. Jack looked away quickly, smothering a smile. Swearing, Ennis kicked at the fence, found that it hadn't dried yet, glared at the paint all over his boot—and turned the glare to Jack, who could no longer hold in his laughter. "What, you think it's funny?" Ennis demanded, though the corners of his own mouth twitched slightly in the beginnings of a smile.

"Yeah," Jack gasped, bent double. He lifted his head enough to grin helplessly at Ennis. "'Specially with all that paint in your hair…"

Ennis grabbed a brush, jumped at Jack, and coated the top of his head and side of his face with fresh, white paint. Swearing, Jack jumped Ennis and the two tumbled to the ground, battling for dominance.

And Jack, for the first time ever, pinned Ennis down and actually kept the bigger man pinned. Jack, hands wrapped loosely around Ennis's throat, grinned triumphantly down at the other man before dropping his shoulders to keep his weight closer to Ennis, thereby making it harder for him to roll Jack over. Ennis flailed uselessly about and finally gave in, reluctantly. Jack pulled away a little, the same grin on his face—and then Ennis's vision was full of forehead and eyebrows and hair falling against his own face, and Ennis was abruptly aware of Jack's lips against his.

Shock gave Ennis the strength he had formerly been lacking, and he bucked Jack off, rolling away and scrambling to his feet. Jack, dazed, shook his head a little, pushed himself up on one arm, glanced up at Ennis then quickly looked away. Ennis just stared down at him with a mix of shock and horror, making inarticulate little noises; Ennis pressed a hand to his face, turned away and took a few steps, turned back, stared, walked in a little circle, spun away again, immediately spun back around, stared at Jack; he pressed his knuckles against his eyes, muttered something Jack couldn't hear, and turned away again; this time, he did not turn back around.

* * *

That night, as Jack was in the bathroom trying to clean the last of the paint from his face and hair before going to bed, there was a soft knock at the bathroom door; before he could call out and ask who it was, the door swung open, and Ennis stepped into the room, yanking the door closed after him. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Ennis grabbed him and shoved him back against the wall, his eyes angry. "You lis'en t'me, Jack fuckin' Twist. I ain't queer. The thing that happened today was a mistake, y'hear?" 

Jack blinked at him in mild surprise, quickly thought through all the possible responses, and chose the worst. He reached up and grabbed two handfuls of Ennis's shirt, and propelled the man back against the opposite wall, pressing his mouth to Ennis's for the second time that day. Jack's hands moved up to grab onto Ennis's ears, keeping the man's face where it was, and pried Ennis's mouth open with his own. Ennis showed surprisingly little resistance, and that was what shocked Jack into stumbling away backwards. Jack leaned heavily against the sink, his knuckles white where he gripped the basin, and stared at Ennis. Ennis's eyes were closed, his lips still parted slightly. Jack wiped at his lips with the back of one hand and ran from the bathroom.

* * *

"You boys got any plans for what you're goin' t'do after you leave?" Mrs. Twist asked at breakfast. 

Ennis stared fixedly at his plate. Jack glanced at his mother and said softly, "Plan is t' find work on some ranch or somethin'." Though there was no way for Jack to know if that was still what Ennis had in mind, what with the…things that had happened. The meal went on in silence a while longer. "Should finish with the fence today, leave soon's it's done."

"Sure took long enough," John Twist muttered sourly. "No way it shoulda taken so long."

Jack and Ennis both shrugged, and said nothing. Mrs. Twist glanced from her son to his friend, frowning, wondering what could have caused this obvious change in both their attitudes.

As usual, Jack was the first to finish eating; he sat back in his chair and waited until Ennis was done. The two glanced up at each and quickly looked away, then rose and silently left the house.

They didn't speak as they painted the last stretch of fence, but both boys looked frequently at each other, though neither noticed it; Jack did not see Ennis's frequent, furtive glances, and Ennis didn't see Jack's lingering looks at the play of muscles along Ennis's arms and back.

Jack finally straightened from the half-crouch he'd been in, looking at Ennis in silence a moment before asking as casually as he could, "We still gonna go on with the plan?"

Ennis didn't pause, his voice as offhand as Jack's: "Don't see no reason not to."

Jack nodded, waited to see if Ennis might say anything more; he didn't, and Jack went back to painting.

* * *

They didn't finish painting until late in the day, but Jack was determined not to spend another night under his parent's roof. As they threw their things into the back of the truck, Ennis mumbled something about not seeing why Jack was so eager to leave, his parents seemed like nice enough people. Jack answered sourly, "Sure, Momma's fine, if'n you can look past all the religious shit. Daddy ain't even worth talkin' 'bout, so I ain't gonna waste my breath explainin' why I hate him." And yet, it was all Jack talked about for a good hour as they drove, giving myriad tales of his hateful and abusive father, to all of which Ennis nodded agreeably and kept his mouth closed. 

Jack drove as long as he could, but when he began dozing off and nearly drove them off the road, Ennis ordered him to pull over at the first motel they could find. Jack was, by then, too tired to argue.

The motel room was small, with a single bed; they'd decided they didn't have the money to afford two rooms or two beds, and climbed into the single bed with their backs to each other, as close to their respective edges as they could be without falling off the bed.

* * *

It was still dark when Ennis awoke, and he wasn't quite sure at first what had wakened him. But as his awareness increased, Ennis heard heavy breathing, as if someone very near him was struggling for air; Ennis traced the source of the breathing to someone above him and, shortly after, became aware of the legs on either side of his, and the hands laboring to undo his belt buckle. 

It was a short scuffle that ultimately resulted in Jack's mouth pressing hard against Ennis's, followed by the length of a body pressing itself down against Ennis's chest, stomach, hips, and thighs. Hands worked their way between the bodies to unbutton Ennis's shirt; that job quickly done, the hands moved back to Ennis's pants.

Ennis tore his mouth away with a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and the hands flew up to Ennis's face, gently stroking his cheeks and hair, voice murmuring incomprehensible but nonetheless comforting phrases. And all the while, the body pressed against Ennis, pressing especially hard in all the right places…until it was Ennis who lifted his mouth to meet those lips, and whose hands moved to the buttons of a shirt…

* * *

The next time Ennis woke, he was having trouble breathing; the cause soon became clear: he was laying on his stomach with Jack sprawled half on top of him, effectively sandwiching Ennis between his body and the none-too-soft bed. Ennis worked his knees and elbows beneath himself and pressed upwards, rolling Jack off and unto the floor. Jack awoke sounding as if he'd tried to swallow his own tongue. 

Jack's head appeared over the side of the bed. For a moment, he and Ennis simply looked impassively at the other; then Jack gave a little snort and started searching on the floor for his clothes. He found Ennis's pants first, and threw them in the general vicinity of the bed; Ennis struggled into them and, modesty satisfied, rolled onto the floor to help Jack with the search.

Jack was the first to break the silence of the morning as they drove down the empty road: "So…we lookin' for ranch work?"

"I'd say so, seein' as that's 'bout all I'm good at. We c'n stop at a rodeo or two if you get the itchin' for it, but ain't no way _I'm_ gettin' on another bronc."

Jack smiled, trying to hide his relief. _We. _Jack had been waiting all morning for Ennis to tell him to pull over, that he'd find work on his own, that he didn't want to be around Jack anymore…but it seemed now that those had been unfounded worries. As far as Jack could tell, Ennis had every intention of staying.

They stopped at a little diner to eat after Jack realized they hadn't had anything since lunch yesterday. There, Jack asked a waitress if she knew of any ranches that needed help. She thought for a moment, then said, "Old Tom Braxton's almost always lookin' for help. One a my boys worked there few years back, didn't have no complaints, said Tom was a real good man. I don't know him myself, but I've only heard good things about him." Jack gave the woman his winning smile, and it sent a strange feeling down into Ennis's stomach, to see that smile directed at a stranger. Ennis would realize later that this was the first stirring of jealously—the first, but certainly not the last.

* * *

Old Tom Braxton was not especially old. He still looked a perfectly fit man, and his eyes were a bright, lively blue as he regarded Jack and Ennis from behind his spectacles. He liked what he saw—two strong, healthy boys, eager for work and fallen on hard enough times that Tom could get them to work for a cheap price. Tom leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, looking earnestly at the two boys. "Tell you what, I just got a few new horses, but I ain't got the men to keep up with all of 'em. I can put you two to work in the stables." 

"What kinda work?" Jack asked shrewdly.

"Well, just cleanin' up 'till I get the feel a both a you, see what you can do… But if you do good, you can bet I'll promote you. I ain't the kind to waste talent."

Jack glanced over at Ennis, who nodded ever so slightly. Jack leaned forward, too, elbows propped on his knees. "What about pay an' livin' arrangements?"

"Got a barracks where all my workers sleep. You two'll have beds in there, places to put your things. We'll feed ya, three meals a day. Nights, ya got to yourselves, you can leave if'n you want, so long's you're back for work in the mornin'. I don't tolerate lateness. Far as pay goes…" He named the price.

Jack and Ennis exchanged looks, communicating in a way Tom couldn't understand. Jack nodded, said, "Mr. Braxton, you got yourself two stable hands."

Tom grinned, and rose to shake Jack's hand, and Ennis's. He kept hold of Ennis's, peering up into the taller man's eyes. "Do you talk, boy?"

"Only when I have to," Ennis mumbled, and Tom smiled slightly as he released Ennis's hand.

"Well, I'll show you boys around, introduce you to some of the people you'll need to know." He beckoned for them to follow him from the office.

Three stables contained the Braxton horses; Jack had been impressed by the look of the stables, and he was further impressed by the interior. The stables were clean almost to the point of sterility, and the horses looked to live far more luxuriously than Jack ever had. Each stable was tended by a troop of men; each troop was overseen by a Head Groom. Ennis and Jack were to work beneath Roy Williams, a distracted man who gave his new workers perfunctory handshakes and greetings before rushing off to yell at a hand improperly cleaning a stall. Tom Braxton grimaced slightly and apologized for Williams, explaining that the man oversaw the biggest of the three stables and had his hands full with all the new horses…and the new, unknowledgeable workers. "You boys better hope you know what you're doin'," Tom advised. "Do somethin' wrong, Roy's likely to throw you out, an' I'll trust his word afore yours."

What Tom had called the barracks looked to be little more than an old stable, modified to suit the large numbers of men it would hold. The beds were all bunk beds; a chest stood at the foot of the bottom bed, and another up against the wall for belongings to be kept in. A few feet away from the barracks was the "mess hall," where meals would be taken. Jack was shown where he could park his truck and, while he was off doing that, Ennis set about packing their things away in the chests by the bunks he'd been pointed to.

They didn't have to start work until tomorrow, and supper was a good hour away; when Jack returned to the barracks he innocently suggested they go wander about the grounds and see if there was anything to look at. Their wandering took them quite some distance from the farm and from all people; Jack, hands shoved deep into his pockets, said tentatively, "I been thinkin' 'bout…last night…"

Ennis paused briefly, then kept walking, though Jack noticed the suddenly tense set of his shoulders. "Yeah?" Ennis asked, trying to sound casual, unconcerned…but he was ready to bolt.

"Uh-huh." Jack was walking on thin ice, and he knew it. But he felt that there were things that needed to be said… "And…"

"Way I see it," Ennis interrupted, choosing his words carefully, "ain't nothin' really wrong with it, long as nobody finds out."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly in confusion—Ennis spoke so few words, they were almost always cryptic—but he nodded anyway. "Uh-huh…"

"And, uh…well…" He shrugged, staring determinedly down at the ground. "Yeah."

Jack slowed, and stopped. Ennis took a few more steps before he, too, stopped and half-turned to face Jack. Jack opened his mouth, closed it, and finally managed to get out, "So…what now?"

"What now?" Ennis repeated. "Well, now we're workin' here, gonna get paid good money. But we'll only get that money if we keep the job, so we can't do nothin' that'll give 'em excuse to fire us."

Jack tried to hide how much the words hurt, but Ennis must have seen something in his face. Ennis took two quick steps forward and grabbed handfuls of Jack's shirt, hauling the man forward into a bruising kiss that sent Jack's head to spinning. When Ennis released him, Jack stumbled forward, almost fell; Ennis gently righted him, squeezed his friend's shoulder, asked softly, "You alright, rodeo?"

Jack swayed slightly on his feet, giddiness making him dizzy. "Yeah," he murmured, eyes finally fixing on Ennis. "What…?"

"Way I see it," Ennis said with a level look at Jack, "our lives ain't no one else's business. A man has the right to live how he chooses. Some choices might make others uncomfortable, so as long as we don't go around advertisin' our private business…" It was more words than Ennis was comfortable speaking at one time, and he shifted his shoulders, looked down at the ground…but his hand remained on Jack's shoulder.

Jack took a shaky breath, trying to force his heart back to a normal rate. It wasn't working, and he gave up, deciding it wasn't really worth it anyway. He was just too happy…no, happy wasn't a strong enough word…_ecstatic_…

"Jack? We should head back…gettin' kinda late…"

Jack blinked, forcing his mind back to the present. "Yeah," he agreed, nodding overeagerly to compensate for the way he'd been acting. "Gettin' late…" Side by side, they walked back the way they had come.


	16. Deeper Than Skin III

**- Deeper Than Skin III -**

The days passed in relative monotony. Jack's rodeo prowess was soon discovered by Tom Braxton—largely due to the fact that Jack took every opportunity presented to him to brag—and Jack was asked if he would be willing to help break some of the newer horses to saddle. Bored with the uneventful stable work, Jack agreed with bright eyes and a broad smile. Not long after, Braxton took note of Ennis's gentle way with the horses, and offered him a position that would eventually earn him the nickname "Horse Whisperer"; Ennis shrugged in response to Tom's offer and gave an emotionless "Sure." Jack found endless amusement in calling Ennis by his new nickname, mostly because he knew how much it annoyed the man. Jack knew there was no real threat behind Ennis's promises to strangle him if he didn't shut his trap.

It was Jack who first suggested they go out for a drink; Ennis wasn't really surprised when they found themselves at a motel instead of a bar. They were very nearly late for work the next morning, though they "went out for drinks" whenever they could.

Week after unremarkable week passed, until Jack realized he hadn't been to a rodeo in a _very_ long time, and decided to find out just how long it had been. Not just weeks, but _months_… It made Jack a little antsy. He wasn't sure how to tell Ennis that he was just about ready to leave Tom Braxton's ranch, since Ennis was getting on so well. It was fair, Jack told himself, for him to want to drag Ennis around to all kinds of rodeos when they both had work here. So he forced himself to be happy here on the ranch. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped it would.

Ennis was leaving the tack room one afternoon when the sound of a scuffle drew him farther into the stable. He wasn't really surprised to find Jack at the center of it, being laid into by three other men. He was doing well enough for himself, but Ennis waded into the fight nonetheless and grabbed Jack by the back of his shirt collar and shoved him away from the other three. Ennis stepped away to avoid a flying fist—he wasn't sure if it was Jack's or one of the other's—and said calmly, "I think that's enough of that."

"Ennis," Jack growled, advancing. Ennis held a hand out towards him, though his eyes remained fixed on the three men.

"There a problem, boys?" Ennis asked, praying Jack was smart enough to stay where he was and, most of all, stay quiet. No one answered. "Well, if there ain't a problem, why were you all tryin' to beat up my friend here?"

"Ennis, leave it be," Jack snarled. "I c'n handle this m'self—"

Ennis chose to ignore him, still looking expectantly at the three standing shamefaced but still angry in front of him. "If ya ain't got nothin' to say, get outta my sight 'fore I report you to Tom Braxton." They fled, and Ennis turned his expectant look to Jack. "Well?" he demanded.

"I coulda beat them."

"I'm sure you coulda, but I kinda like your face the way it is, and they mighta rearranged it some."

"I don't need you protectin' me! I can take care a myself just fine."

"I know that, Jack, but…you don't have to. Hell, someone's gotta make sure you don't get yourself killed; might as well be me." He shifted a little uncomfortably, acutely aware of the new look in Jack's eyes, and asked, "So, what'd you do t' make 'em wanna beat you so bad?"

The look in Jack's eyes was replaced again by anger, which was what Ennis had half hoped for. "I didn't do nothin'! _They_ started it!"

"Alright, then, what'd they say to make you angry enough to cost yourself this job?"

Jack ground his teeth together, his eyes burning with barely-suppressed rage. He looked down at the ground and slowly loosened his fingers from the fists they'd been curled into. "Doesn't matter no more."

"It does too, Jack. You know you can tell me—you sure as hell've told me everythin' else. We gotta be able to trust each other—"

Jack looked up sharply, his eyes stormy. "Then why can't you trust me that it don't matter what they said!"

Ennis blinked in surprise. _Damn, they musta said somethin' that struck him deep._ He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, then tried to smile. "All right, Jack. I trust you. Don't matter what they said, an' I won't bother you 'bout it. Just promise that you won't get into any more fights, alright?"

Jack smiled a little, his relief obvious. "I'll do my best," he said noncommittally, pulling his hat off his head and running his fingers back through his hair. "Listen, Ennis, I been thinkin'…"

"Told you before, you shouldn't do that. You might hurt yourself."

The familiar mischievous gleam entered Jack's eyes, and he threw out a cheerful, "Fuck you," before continuing more seriously, "I think it's 'bout time we moved on somewhere else…I need to rodeo a few times, you know, an' then I'll be good for ranch again…"

Ennis smiled slightly. "Yeah, I know. Alright, Jack, if that's what you want, we can leave. Do you need to be gone tonight, or can we sleep here an' leave in the mornin'?"

"Mornin's fine," Jack said, cheerfully surprised that Ennis was so willing to go along with the sudden change.

* * *

Tom Braxton begged and pleaded, but nothing he said could persuade the two men to stay. Eventually, resigned, he dropped back into his chair and told them they could come back and work for him any time. Jack thanked him for the kind offer, and led Ennis from the office.

They drove around aimlessly for a while, until Jack got word of a rodeo and drove off to it as fast as he could. Ennis gave him a mumbled "Good luck" before going to find a seat in the already-packed stands.

Jack's ride would have to be very good if he had any hope of winning, and Ennis hoped he could do it. Sulky wasn't a mood he liked in Jack.

His ears pricked up when he heard Jack's name called, and he moved to the edge of his seat, craning his neck to get a better look into the ring. The gate flew open, and the bull came out bucking, Jack clinging to its back like a helpless little fly. The crowd shouted and so did Jack, whooping like a fool; without realizing he was doing it, Ennis moved his lips in a silent prayer to any god that might deign to listen to him.

Ennis didn't bother to keep time; even the shortest of rides would have been far too long for Ennis's comfort, and by the time Jack was finally thrown, Ennis was ready to scream. As Jack tumbled off the bull's back, Ennis very nearly jumped to his feet with some half-realized notion of going to Jack's aid, but forced himself to sit back down as the bull veered toward one of the rodeo clowns and Jack scrambled to his feet, grinning from ear to ear. The announcer was shouting something, which the crowd responded to with a wild cheer; all Ennis could hear was the rapid thundering of his heart against his ribs. He finally convinced himself to get up and made his way from the stands, and found Jack dunking his head in a water trough. He emerged dripping and grinning when he saw Ennis, and gave the man an enormous back-slapping embrace which Ennis returned a little uncomfortably. Jack took a quick step away when he noticed Ennis's tenseness, but the grin showed no sign of fading. "I tell ya, boy, it's in the bag, got this one whipped good. Really good money prize, from what I've heard…"

Jack's smile was infectious. "Yeah, you did real good, Jack. Better'n anyone else out there."

Preening under the praise, Jack led Ennis back into the stands to watch the competition. As predicted, Jack took first and, after collecting his winnings, easily gave in to Ennis's demand for good, strong beer. They got drunk enough that they barely managed to stumble their way to a motel, but not quite drunk enough to not keep celebrating long into the night.

It may have been that Jack wasn't thinking very clearly, what with the headache pounding behind his eyes, but as they set off down the road for the day, he gave voice to an idea that had slowly and silently been fermenting inside his brain: "Somethin' I been thinkin' about—"

Ennis smirked. "Seems you're doin' a lot a that. It's got me a little worried."

Jack reached over to shove him playfully, and Ennis simply smiled. "We got us some money saved up now, an' I'm thinkin' it's about time we put that money to some good use."

"Whattya got in mind?" Ennis asked a little warily.

Jack's eyes were bright as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm thinkin' we buy a ranch, just you an' me. Raise horses, maybe, or…well, it don't really matter _what_."

Ennis was frowning, his forehead deeply lined. Jack began to worry as Ennis's silence stretched on, his own brow creasing as he glanced often away from the road to study Ennis's still profile. Ennis, who had never been good at judging emotions, was too wrapped up in his own swirling thoughts to notice the hopeful, anxious, crestfallen, look in Jack's eyes.

* * *

It wasn't until they were leaving the diner where they had eaten a quick lunch that Ennis broke his silence. He leaned against the hood of the truck, scrubbed a hand over his face, glanced at Jack, and quickly looked away. "So," he mumbled, "I been thinkin'…"

Jack's ears all but perked up, and he leaned towards Ennis, draping both arms over the hood. "Yeah?" he prodded.

"I'm, uh…I think I need to…to go off on my own for a while, you know? There's…some stuff I been meanin' t'do…" He trailed off lamely, refusing to look up to meet Jack's horrified, pained expression. "So…I guess I'm gonna go…" He scuffed his boot on the ground, then determinedly went to the back of the truck and fished out his pack of belongings. He turned away without a backwards glance, leaving Jack staring after him. Feeling as if his chest were being cut open, his heart ripped out and slowly squeezed, Jack stared until tears blurred his vision so badly he couldn't stare anymore.

* * *

Mrs. Twist came down to her kitchen and was greatly surprised to find her son sitting at the table. Before she could ask a thing, Jack mumbled, "Got in late last night. Didn't want to wake you."

Mrs. Twist smiled. "And we thank you for that. Ennis here, too?"

Something passed across Jack's face, but was gone before Mrs. Twist could be sure she saw anything at all. "No. We parted ways a few days ago. He…had some stuff to do. I figger on stayin' here for a while, if it's alright…"

"'Course it's alright, Jack. You know your daddy and I are always happy to have you here."

Jack gave a noncommittal mumble and returned to staring morosely at the tabletop, leaving his mother to wonder at this strange mood. She was left wondering, though, as Jack seemed unwilling to disclose any sort of information, and threw himself into any work he could find: helping on his parent's ranch, helping on the neighbors' ranches, doing odd jobs in town…anything, any kind of work that would make him exhausted enough that he could fall into bed at night and not dream…not dream of Ennis's face as he emotionlessly tore Jack's heart out.

Time lost any sort of meaning for Jack. If he'd bothered to keep track, he would have realized he stayed with his parents for nearly half a year. But he threw himself body and mind into his work, leaving no room for the unimportant things like what day of the week it was; or how many days it had been since he'd last seen Ennis, held him, kissed him, made love to him…

Jack had, sometime during his stay at his parent's house, decided the place "looked like a pile of shit" and had set about to single-handedly remedy that. This choice was largely due to the storms that kept him cooped up inside, but there was enough work to be done to keep his mind off the things he didn't want to think about. He was viciously scrubbing the kitchen table to a shine one stormy night when the steady pounding of the rain was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Frowning, Jack looked through the window in the door, but could only make out a dark figure against a dark backdrop. He yanked the door open and demanded, "What?"

Kitchen light bathed the late-night visitor, throwing his pale, gaunt face into sharp and horrifying relief.

"Jack."

Jack's eyes widened, and he took a step back. He would swear later that it was rain blowing in through the door that blurred his vision as he whispered, "Ennis."


	17. Deeper Than Skin IV

**- Deeper Than Skin IV -**

Jack's brain kicked into gear, and he grabbed Ennis's arm, practically dragging the man inside and slamming the door after him. Ennis was soaked to the bone, and a pool of water was quickly gathering around his feet; but in that instant, Ennis didn't mind—didn't mind the wet, didn't mind the cold; all he cared about, all that filled his mind, was Jack.

Neither heard Mrs. Twist's call of, "Jack, who is it?" But both were startled into movement by the much nearer exclamation of, "Oh, Ennis—Lord, you're soaking wet! Jack, don't just stand there, get him some dry clothes!"

Jack pulled his eyes away from Ennis and started to lead the man upstairs, but it soon became apparent that Ennis was in sorry shape. Jack looped his arm around Ennis's waist, pushing away slight panic when he noticed how thin Ennis had gotten, and practically carried him upstairs. Though the guest bedroom was nearest, Jack carried Ennis into his own room and propped Ennis up in his bed before rummaging around in the closet for clothes. Ennis was exhausted, sick, drunk, or a combination of the three, and was no help at all in getting his clothes off, leaving Jack to struggle with keeping him upright and pull the fresh clothes on. That done, Jack sat down in a chair to quietly panic over his friend's condition.

Mrs. Twist entered the room and quickly took stock of the situation. She briskly ordered Jack to put Ennis properly in bed instead of leaving him sprawled atop the blankets as he was, and told her son to come get her if Ennis's present condition should change. As Jack rose to do her bidding, she left him to it.

Jack's hands were shaking as he carefully maneuvered Ennis underneath the covers of the bed, and it took him a few moments to sort out his emotions: fear for Ennis's health, joy at seeing him again; but there were stronger emotions, too: anger, fury almost, that Ennis had left in the first place and had come back to him now in this condition, making it impossible for Jack to vent his fury, forcing Jack to care for him… Hands clenched tightly into fists, Jack quickly stepped away from the bed before the desire to hit Ennis overwhelmed him.

But his anger couldn't last forever—it hardly lasted a minute. Jack found himself weaseling in under the covers, curling up against Ennis's side and breathing in the much-missed scent of the man. Before long, he was as soundly asleep as Ennis.

* * *

Jack awoke as early as usual, but remained in his bed for a while longer, finding next to Ennis a simple but precious peace that he hadn't known in so long. Reluctant as he was to get up, a little voice at the back of Jack's mind—his mother's voice, most likely, with a little of his father's layered thickly beneath—nagged that he couldn't lay about in bed all day, no matter how warm it was, or how pleasant the company. Careful not to disturb said company, he rolled out of bed and went about his morning routine, allowing himself time to think about what the hell he was going to do now.

_Ennis is here. He's back. He came back to find me, and here he is._ Jack couldn't seem to get much farther than that. He was still having trouble deciding whether to hate Ennis or grab him and kiss him as hard as he could. The latter was far more appealing, of course, but the former seemed only natural. Ennis had, after all, abandoned Jack after Jack had opened his heart completely—opened it right up for heartbreak. Ennis deserved to be hated, to be thrown out of the house as soon as he woke up—no, _before_ he even woke up… But Jack just couldn't summon up the anger necessary for such a task, and he returned to his room wanting nothing more than to cuddle up next to Ennis again, but resolving firmly _not_ to do so. Not until he'd had a few things explained, at least. After he knew what the hell was going on…well, then anything could happen. Thoughts of what "anything" could be made Jack a little dizzy, and he pushed them away before Jack Jr. could finish pitching his denim tent.

Ennis was still asleep, so Jack dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat there, waiting. He had no idea how long he waited—not that it mattered, since he would have waited days if it had come to that—but Ennis finally began to show the signs of waking. His eyes opened and, after a moment of obvious disorientation, fixed on Jack—and, amazingly, filled with tears. "Christ," Ennis muttered, tears drawing slow lines down his cheeks, "…thought it was all just a dream…"

This wasn't what Jack had expected. In all truth, he hadn't really been expecting anything, but this…Ennis didn't cry. Ennis never cried. He hardly ever showed even mild emotions, much less this…and so Jack sat there helplessly, unsure what to do as Ennis turned his head and cried quietly into the pillow.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Jack found himself crawling into the bed and holding Ennis tightly against his chest; it was a pleasant surprise when Ennis allowed this and, further, turned his head against Jack's shoulder and cried there, hands clutching weakly at the front of Jack's shirt. "I'm sorry," Ennis whispered, so softly Jack almost couldn't hear it. Tears of his own threatening to spill over, Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut and simply held Ennis, every so often murmuring something he hoped sounded comforting. Ennis's moment of weakness didn't last long, though, and he pulled away a little; Jack let him go, knowing it would do no good to try to hold on any longer. Ennis wiped at his eyes with his hands, cleared his throat a few times, finally said, "Thanks…for takin' me in an' all…didn't mean to show up like that, but my truck broke down an' I had to walk…"

"Ain't no problem," Jack answered, wondering whether he should get up—torn between the need to stay near Ennis, and the equally strong desire to make the other man less uncomfortable. He finally settled on swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting with his back to Ennis. There, finally, unable to see Ennis's face, some of Jack's earlier anger finally began to seep out. "Why're you here, Ennis?" he asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

"I—I came to find you."

"And now you have. What do you want?"

Ennis was silent for a very long time. Finally, he said, "I know I done you wrong, Jack. I shouldn'ta left you like I did, but…I couldn't think a what else to do. Ya have to understand, Jack—"

"Understand?" Jack repeated. Then louder, "_Understand_! You gotta be fucking _joking_, Ennis! I ain't never understood a single fuckin' thing you done, an' I sure as hell don' understand why you done _this_ to me—!"

"Come on now, Jack, you're yellin'—"

"Damn right I'm yellin', an' I'll yell at you long as I want to! I'm gonna yell at you till my voice goes hoarse, boy, 'til I can't yell at you no more! You hear me, Ennis Del Mar? All I fucking ever did was love you, and you throw me out on my ass. What'm I s'posed to think, huh?" Jack was on his feet by now, waving his arms wildly around and not caring that the horses—and certainly his parents—could hear him. But even as he went on, his voice dropped gradually lower: "I hated you, Ennis. I didn't wanna go on livin' no more; I already felt dead anyway. Thought more'n once 'bout drivin' my truck in front of a semi or somethin'…almost did, once…but I couldn't. You wanna know why?" His voice rose again. "'Cause a you! I kept thinkin' 'bout you—! Started wonderin' if you'd be sad if I died, or if you'd be happy. I didn't wanna make you sad, an' I didn't wanna make you happy, neither. Fucking only reason I'm here right now is 'cause I couldn't figger out if I hated you more'n I loved you…" His voice trailed off, and he dropped down into his chair, burying his head in his hands. "I still don't know," he whispered.

Though Jack couldn't see it, fresh tears were slipping down Ennis's face, and the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. But his throat had closed, and he couldn't seem to find the right words anyway…didn't know if there _were_ any words that could make this alright…

And so they both sat there, both crying, Jack's heart laid bare and stomped on once again, Ennis watching helplessly with the knowledge that he had done this, and that there was nothing he could do to fix it.

* * *

Jack finally lifted his head, rubbing fiercely at his eyes and still sniffling a little. He avoided looking at Ennis, got up and went to the window and stood staring out over the yard, white-knuckled hands holding onto the sill. Softly, he said, "You should go." Nothing more—just that one simple declaration that said as clearly as writing that he wanted nothing more to do with Ennis. Ennis had had his chance, and wasted it; Jack wasn't going to give him another.

Slowly, Ennis got up, went to stand behind Jack, reached out to gently touch Jack's shoulder; Jack jerked away from the touch like he'd been burned. Ennis squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip, and turned away, quietly stumbling from the room. Tears blurred Jack's vision as, a few moments later, he watched through the window as the only person he'd ever love walked slowly away.


	18. Deeper Than Skin V

**- Deeper Than Skin V -**

Jack suspected that his mother knew what it was that kept him locked away in his room for the next few days, though she said nothing of it when she brought his meals up to him. Occasionally, Jack could hear his father loudly complaining about how useless Jack had become; before, he would have seriously considered marching down the stairs and attempting to break his father's jaw, but now he merely regarded this criticism as the truth. Jack was useless. He couldn't do anything right—he never had, and never would. A simple truth that didn't hurt nearly as much as it would have before Jack's heart and spirit had been broken.

When Jack finally managed to pull himself together and drag himself downstairs, he wasn't surprised to find his mother busily cooking; it was such a normal task, one he'd witnessed every day of his life, that it seemed so out of place among his own inner turmoil. Mrs. Twist just gave her son a simple nod, which Jack returned tiredly as he lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table. A mug of coffee was placed in front of him, and he wrapped both hands around it, staring into the dark depths and hoping it would provide him with some answers.

"Thinkin' it's about time I moved on again," he finally said, his voice husky with disuse and unshed tears.

"If that's what you want…" The silence extended until Mrs. Twist took a chair of her own and reached out to gently lay a hand over Jack's. When he looked up to meet her eyes, she said, very softly, "I think you may have been too hard on him."

Jack looked away, swallowing hard. "Lotta stuff you don't know about it, Momma."

"I know. But you didn't see his face when he walked outta here. You hurt him 'least as much as he hurt you…an' he _did_ come back. He tried." Jack didn't answer. "Try an' see it through his eyes, Jack. He knew he did wrong by you, but it was the only thing he could think to do. Now he came to try to make things better, and you push him away just like he did to you. Yeah, I know what happened," she said in response to the shocked look Jack gave her. "Ennis an' me, we had a little talk, and he told me all about it. Told me a lot more than what he meant to, I think…" She caught and held Jack's gaze again, said almost sternly, "He's a good man, and he feels the same about you that you do about him. He just don't have the words to say it." She smiled slightly. "And you gotta understand, Jack—you make him nervous as hell. Way he explained it me, his brain stops workin' whenever he's around you." Her smile faded into a serious expression, reprimanding expression that made Jack feel like a kid again. "Now, he's stayin' at a little motel down the way, an' he's got a job near here. He asked me to tell you to come find him. He wants to talk, an' he said he ain't leavin' until he does. Said he'd track you down if you left without findin' him first. I told him you'd talk to him, an' I'm holdin' you to that. It don't have to be today, but I ain't lettin' you leave 'til you give him a chance to say his piece. You hear me?"

Jack swallowed hard, averting his eyes again. "Yeah, momma. I hear ya."

* * *

Jack's relationship with his father had grown even more strained, for John Twist made it no secret that he had heard the exchange between his son and Ennis. The hostility from this front made Jack even more eager to be off, but his mother remained firmly adamant that he go see Ennis before leaving—so firm, in fact, to go so far as taking Jack's keys away from him, for which she withstood a short-lived tempest of her son's anger. After only a few moments of shouting, Jack slumped down into a chair and dropped his arms and head onto the kitchen table. Mrs. Twist rested a hand gently on her son's head, said softly, "Go see him, Jack."

"I can't," Jack whispered. "Not yet…"

One morning not long after this incident, Mrs. Twist asked Jack to help her run some errands. She allowed him to drive only under the agreement that he would go exactly where she told him to, and so Jack found himself driving to one of the neighboring ranches. "Need some feed for the horses," Mrs. Twist explained. "You go see if you can find it, I'm gonna go talk price with Bill."

As there was only one stable, it seemed reasonable that Jack would find the horse feed there. Yet he spent a good ten minutes searching every nook and cranny, and was about to give up when he saw someone carrying an armful of blankets enter the stable farther down. Relieved, Jack started towards the man with the intention of asking for help, when the blankets shifted and he caught a glimpse of the man's face.

Ennis.

Jack froze, his feet rooted to the floor, and stared at the approaching man with pained horror. Ennis hadn't seen him yet…there was still time to flee…but Jack couldn't get his feet to move… By chance only, Ennis happened to glance down the aisle as he was trying to open the door into the tack room, and saw Jack standing there… The blankets slipped from Ennis's arms and landed in a dusty heap on the floor, quickly forgotten as Ennis stepped towards Jack. Voice thick with emotion, he said, "Jack…I—I'm glad you came…"

"I didn't mean to," Jack whispered. No more than five feet separated them now, and Ennis didn't come any closer—probably a wise move. It occurred to Jack that there was no horse feed, that his mother had set him up for this, had probably made sure Ennis had some excuse to come in here…

"Jack," Ennis said again, softly, reaching out as if to touch Jack's shoulder, then curling his fingers back and slowly letting his arm drop back to his side. Jack looked like a terrified horse, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. But at least he didn't seem like he was going to move, so long as Ennis kept his distance, and Ennis decided that now was as good a time as any to say what he needed to. "Listen, Jack—I should never've left ya. Biggest mistake I ever made…an' now I been stupid enough to make it twice. There're some things I shoulda said to you the other day, but I couldn't think a 'em then…I've had time to think now, though, an' I think I got it all sorted out, the things I gotta say. Will—will ya give me a chance to say them?" Jack still stood there, shaking noticeably, his wide, teary eyes fixed on Ennis and yet seeming to look through him. He gave no answer, and Ennis decided to take that as a 'go-ahead'. "I want to try to get you to understand why…why I did what I did. I ain't sayin' it was the right thing—I know it wasn't—but I want you to maybe understand why I did it. All that time we was…together…I kept tellin' myself we was just friends, ya know? Not nothin' more'n that… But when you started talkin' 'bout ranches an' all that…settlin' down…shit, Jack, I couldn't pretend no more, an' I didn't wanna think about us as anythin' more'n friends. I was scared, Jack. I couldn't think…" He wanted so badly to reach out and pull Jack against him, to hold him, to feel the warmth he always radiated… He cleared his throat again, forcing himself not to look away, so Jack could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth…opening himself up just as Jack had… "I got a few other jobs, but it wasn't the same. I was miserable, an' it took me too damn long to figger out it was because you were gone… And then I went lookin' for you." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "What you said before, about…about killin' yourself…" The memory of that part of Jack's speech was still painful, and Ennis had to swallow hard before he could go on. "Well, I woulda been sad, Jack. Real sad. An' I woulda hated myself for bein' the one who made you do it… Damnit, Jack!" he exploded suddenly, startling Jack enough that his eyes focused fully on Ennis's face. "I don't know what to say to you! I don't know how to make you see how sorry I am for all I done, or how to show you that I want things to be better…'cause damnit, Jack, I don't wanna go on like I been…I found you now, an' I ain't gonna let you go again. I—I love you."

It was too much for Jack. Ennis saw it, and jumped forward to wrap his arms around Jack before he could collapse. His own knees almost giving out beneath Jack's weight—Jack had been eating a lot better than Ennis for the past months—Ennis held onto him tightly, and refused to let go no matter how hard Jack struggled. And he did struggle, trying to push himself away and, when that didn't work, trying to hit Ennis, screaming curses and lashing about with his fists and legs. His forehead slammed into Ennis's nose, making his eyes water and his nose start to bleed, but still he held on.

Jack words finally began to make some sense, though Ennis didn't like what they said: "I already let you go!" Jack shouted, his tears obvious in his voice. "I let you go, I told myself I didn't need you no more. I was movin' on with my life, startin' to feel like things could go back to normal, like I didn't need you no more…! And then you show up—!" His words faded into incoherence as he broke down completely, collapsing against Ennis and sobbing helplessly.

"I don't love you no more, Ennis," Jack whispered, though he still clung to Ennis like life itself. "I _can't_ love you…it hurts too much…"

"I won't never hurt you again. I promise."

"I _can't_… Just let me go, Ennis…leave me be…I don't wanna hurt no more…"

"Gimmie just one more chance, Jack, please. I wanna make up for all the things I done to you…"

_The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak _drifted through Jack's mind, a phrase his mother had often quoted at him. Jack wanted to hate Ennis, to spare himself from any more pain the man might bring…but Jack just didn't have the strength to hate Ennis. His love was greater than his hate, and so he clung to Ennis and whispered weakly, "I can't stand to have my heart broken no more, Ennis. I can't. It's damn near killed me, and it will next time—"

"Ain't gonna be no next time," Ennis said fiercely. "I ain't gonna hurt you ever again. I love you—ya hear that, Jack? I love you."

Jack buried his face against Ennis's chest and whispered, "I hear."

:>


End file.
